


wanting you with me isn't a crime

by chikoo



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Arranged Marriage, Explicit Sexual Content, Indian mythology - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Magic-Users, Mythology - Freeform, Non-Graphic Violence, Pack Dynamics, Soulmates, Unresolved Sexual Tension, a lot of humans vs nature, kind of but not really, kinda ramayana inspired? you shall see lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2020-11-23 14:09:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20893361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chikoo/pseuds/chikoo
Summary: "Tomorrow you will find your other half, Wooyoung. I want you to remember that the harmony of the pack and the harmony within you must be preserved and nourished. For if you lose it, you lose everything. Choose wisely and listen to the Earth, not the pack."Wooyoung has spent his life trying to forget his past and honour his duties, losing himself in the process. But when someone from his memories resurfaces, he can't quite explain why it feels as if he's known San in all his lifetimes- why it feels like coming home.





	1. hold my heart

**Author's Note:**

> hi, if you're reading this, i love you omg. 
> 
> i don't want to give any spoilers so more detailed notes at the end!
> 
> i will be updating this weekly and i hope you enjoy it!!

Two nights before Wooyoung’s betrothal ceremony, he dreams of a life he had completely forgotten about. 

The dream is alarmingly vivid; The first thing Wooyoung feels is cold. He is somewhere unfamiliar. A wooded area adorned with piles of snow, mountains blurry in the distance. Wooyoung can see the bleeding green of pine trees so clearly, blanketed by little heaps of snow. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around and Wooyoung feels a deep churning of panic and fear rip through him. He realises he’s crying, little sniffles falling from him as he sits in the snow and waits for something, little hands wrapped around his knees. He’s beginning to shiver violently and belatedly realises he must have dropped his furs somewhere when he ran off, delighted to see all kinds of new creatures in the snow, trees he’s never seen before. Suddenly he hears rustling and smells the boy before he sees him. The boy creeps out of the nest of pine trees and approaches Wooyoung carefully, as if not to scare him. He’s small and drowning in furs. His eyes are wide and glued to Wooyoung who stares right back. 

“Are you- are you okay?” The boy asks hesitantly, still quite a few feet away from Wooyoung. 

Upon hearing the question, Wooyoung promptly burst into tears, so loud in the quiet of the forest. 

“Noo, I want my Mamma! I lost her, she told me to stay close to her but I didn’t,” Wooyoung laments through heavy sobs, “ We’ve been travelling for so_ long _because Mamma said we have to meet the northern clans. I don’t know where she is now and it’s so cold, why is there so much snow here?” 

The boy immediately runs up to Wooyoung and begins to gently wipe tears off his face. Wooyoung is weirdly comforted by the gesture; he isn’t usually so open to unfamiliar wolves. Maybe it’s the boy’s scent- every time Wooyoung takes a deep breath, his lungs are filled with the comforting scent of hearth and home. 

“Don’t cry! Come on, we’ll find her. Are you from the Midlands? I’ve never been there before. Does it not snow there? Anyways, don’t worry, your mother is probably already in the village! We’ll find her, I promise. My Ma says I have the best nose in the entire village,” the boy exclaims, pulling at Wooyoung’s hands to get him to stand up. When Wooyoung totters on his feet, legs shivering from the cold, the boy takes off one of his furs and drapes it around Wooyoung without a word. 

He begins to guide Wooyoung forward, in no real direction, all the while still chattering. “This one time, my Pappa took me hunting with him, because I’m quite mature now you know, and I could smell a _ bear _ from so far away! Even _ he _couldn't smell anything. He didn’t let me come close to it though. But that’s okay! I just have to wait a few more years until I come of age.”

Wooyoung finds himself nodding along to the boy’s words, not really paying attention. He’s much more focused on watching the boy’s animated face and over-the-top hand gestures. The boy has two dimples and before Wooyoung realises, his hand reaches out to poke them. The boy stops talking with a jolt. He’s about to snatch his hand away, remembering his mother’s admonishments about being polite to people when the boy laughs and his dimples deepen. 

“They look weird, right? I was born with them.”

“No, no. I like them,” Wooyoung says and gives the boy a shy smile. The boy’s eyes widen and suddenly he coos, hands coming up to cup Wooyoung’s face, rambling about his squishy cheeks. Wooyoung doesn’t like his cheeks at all. He isn’t small anymore, but he still looks like a baby. But just like his Ma, the boy simply pats at his cheeks when Wooyoung glares at him. 

Before they know it, they come to the boundaries of foreign territory, the warding glamour making Wooyoung’s skin tingle. Wooyoung jerks at the boy’s arm, pulling him back before they cross the treeline.

The boy just shrugs and says “It’s okay, this is my home! Come, I’ll tell my parents about your Mother, and we can all find her together. It’s okay, it only keeps city-dwellers out.”

Wooyoung is still hesitant but he follows the boy, clutching at his arm. A few moments later, Wooyoung picks up a very familiar scent in the air. Immediately, he drops the boy’s arm and begins running frantically through the woods, making a beeline for the scent, feet trudging heavily in the snow. He comes across a large clearing where a lot of little cottages sit and people mingle about. He ignores them and runs all the way to the edge until he thuds heavily into someone’s back. He hears a heavy sigh and suddenly he’s being lifted and cradled in his mother’s arms as she scent-marks him furiously. 

“Wooyoung! How many times do I have to tell you to stay close to me?! You know these forests are dangerous. What if you’d been spotted??”

Wooyoung doesn’t hear a word she says, too busy nuzzling at her and beaming with happiness. He hears deep chuckling behind him and turns abruptly to see a man standing there with his arms crossed. 

“So this is little Wooyoung? Your mother was just about to send out an entire search party,” he says, still smiling. He looks toward the boy who had run after Wooyoung and brushes the boy’s long hair back. “It’s a good thing San found you. Then again, my son also needs to be reminded that it isn’t safe to wander off on his own, hmm?” Wooyoung realises the man has the same smile as the boy, San, two dimples beaming wide.

San smiles mischievously and bumps his father’s hip. He looks up at Wooyoung and gives him an exaggerated wink. 

“Thank you, San. How did you manage to find him? The snow was so thick even I couldn’t pin his scent down,” questions Wooyoung’s mother. 

San just shrugs and says, “I was playing with Mingi and then I smelled something. I wanted to see what it was, so I followed it. He was in the pine forest, near the mountains. Pappa, you know the place you go for moon hunting?”

San’s father frowns. “That’s miles away. How could you even pick it up?” He asks, almost murmuring to himself. 

San looks at his father with wide eyes and shrugs again. “I dunno. I liked the scent, I wanted to see what it was,” he says, with a little smile. 

Wooyoung’s mother and San’s father share an unreadable look. Then his mother puts him down, despite his whining, and pushes him towards San, who accepts him with ready arms, jumping up and down and clinging to Wooyoung’s fur. 

“Okay sweetheart, Alpha Jisoo and I have business to discuss. Pack Alpha business, Wooyoung,” she adds when Wooyoung opens his mouth to protest. “Play with San for a little bit. We’ll go back home tomorrow morning, first thing. It’s too late to make the journey now, it’s almost sundown.”

Wooyoung deflates a little but San is already pulling him away and towards a gangly looking boy and prattling on about “Yay, Wooyoung! That’s a good name, by the way, this is Mingi, we can play so many games, I’m so _ excited _” and Wooyoung quickly forgets about his mother, holding San’s warm hand tight. 

  


* * *

  


Wooyoung wakes up with his heart thudding, the phantom feeling of a warm hand still clenched tight in his, silent tears streaming down his face. Yeosang shifts a little beside him, murmuring something nonsensical before turning over and snoring. Wooyoung’s chest beats so loudly he’s sure Yeosang can hear it as loud as his own. He sits up, jostling the thin cotton sheets off him and wills his mind to stop racing. 

The memory was so clear it’s as if it happened yesterday. He hasn’t thought about _ then _ in so long, it’s almost crippling. He can’t understand why he dreamt about it, about San. He never saw San again after that encounter. He didn’t know it then but that was also one of the last times he saw his alpha mother. 

Wooyoung sighs and wipes his face aggressively, mind flashing back to San’s small hands. There’s a strange buzzing sound coming from somewhere inside the hut, probably mosquitos let in because one of them forgot to put netting over the windows. Wooyoung focuses on the sound until his heart quietens. 

Absently, he thinks about how he had never even known about mosquitoes till his pack came to the Southern Forests and meshed with Yeosang’s pack. Wooyoung’s childhood had been pleasant days and open fields in the summer and light snow and rain in autumn and winter. Now, the days are hot no matter the season and the trees more ancient and dangerous than the ones he knew as a child. 

That was one of the reasons they’d migrated here: when everything went wrong, Wooyoung’s omega mother had led them back to her native home, a small but strong pack living deep within the Southern Forests. The area is an open vat of wild magic and danger that the native packs wielded with ease but caution and the city-dwellers avoided as much as possible. And that was another reason: to go as far away as possible from the cities, away from the mortals who sought to hunt and harm them. 

Wooyoung thinks about the icy cold of the pine forest, the frost lands San must have grown up in and wonders where he is now; if his pack had survived the hunts where Wooyoung’s had almost perished. 

Wooyoung lays back down and tries not to think. He doesn’t fall asleep until the early morning sun drapes over them and the darkness is left behind. 

He wakes up to Yeosang’s face uncomfortably close to his and a pounding in his head. 

“Oh good. I was going to lick you if you didn’t wake up and I’m not sure that’s entirely hygienic,” says Yeosang, leaning back to sit on his haunches as he stares down at Wooyoung. “You look like death. You do know you have to look all pretty and fuckable tomorrow right?”

Wooyoung groans and swats at Yeosang blindly, who just cackles and dodges it. He lies down on his side next to Wooyoung and sighs. 

“This is the last time I’m going to be waking you up, you know? From tomorrow night, your mate is going to be graced with your drooling face,” he quips, but his voice is heavy and Wooyoung can smell the slight tinge of sadness in his scent. Yeosang and him have been sharing this hut since Wooyoung’s pack sought refuge here and Wooyoung presented only a few days after. As the only non-mated omegas, they were given their own little place to call home. Yeosang had very quickly become Wooyoung’s closest friend and he’s going to miss him awfully. 

Without warning, he tackles Yeosang into a hug and tightens his hold on him when Yeosang squawks and tries to free himself. Hongjoong finds them like that when he walks in a few minutes later, Wooyoung completely wrapped around Yeosang, whose face was turning an alarming shade of red. Hongjoong just huffs and pulls at the scruff of Wooyoung’s neck in admonishment. 

“You absolute brat, do you know what time it is? You missed the dawn ceremony! Your mother is going to skin you alive,” Hongjoong chides him while pulling him up and trying to get Wooyoung’s pants on. “The seer has asked you to visit her as well.” 

Wooyoung pauses in the middle of shrugging on a white tunic over his head and stares at Hongjoong in disbelief who looks just as stunned.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, the priestess told me herself. This is the first time in a long time that the seer has requested an audience with anyone Wooyoung. I hope this is a good omen.” Hongjoong looks at him fondly and ruffles his hair. Wooyoung gulps and prays to the Goddess that it is. 

Hongjoong guides him to the outskirts of the village, to the tiny spring that bubbles up from deep underground. He finds his mother kneeling at the bed of the water, hands clasped around a large, voluminous lotus flower. As he nears, he sits down next to her and takes her hand in his. The flower thrums in their hands, connected so intrinsically to the earth, Wooyoung can feel its energy flow into him. He recites the familiar incantation along with his mother and together, they set the lotus free into the water. It floats languidly and joins the bountiful bed of flowers sitting in the spring.

His mother turns to him then and just sighs, resigned, as he grins sheepishly. 

“Now that you’re here, we must practise Bhūmi’s dance. It’s crucial that you perform it correctly tomorrow, Wooyoung, it will bring a lifetime of blessings for you and tie you even closer to Her.”

They spend the entire day there, the sun fading into dusk and birds cooing songs as the sky darkens. The ground under them vibrates as Wooyoung moves, twirling and twisting and releasing magical energy into everything around him. When Wooyoung’s mother seems satisfied, they finish with meditation and begin making their way back to the village. 

As they walk, Wooyoung thinks about how he had completely abhorred the Goddess and rejected her when his alpha mother was hunted. 

It happened so quickly. The Pack Alpha and a large number of wolves were commemorating the Moon Festival with the Great Chase. The only pack members who stayed behind were children and the elderly or sick as they all waited in excitement for the return of their pack, for the Pack Alpha’s triumphant howl. What they heard instead made them despair because it wasn’t the victorious howling of wolves. It was the howling of wolves close to death. Wooyoung remembers sitting next to his grandmother, mind blank, as she stifled sobs next to him. Everyone was huddled, completely helpless as they heard their pack members calling for help. 

Slowly, as the night grew darker, a few survivors found their way back, injured and faint. Wooyoung had almost shouted in glee as he saw his omega mother shuffling into the clearing. But one look at her dead eyes and Wooyoung knew the Pack Alpha had been taken. He knew he would never see his Alpha mother again. 

The next few days were a blur. The survivors were tended to as much as possible but Wooyoung’s mother was anxious and resolved to run far away from here. The city-dwellers were still lurking around the area. He doesn’t really remember the journey much, only that it took them so long and they lost a few along the way. When they came to the Southern Forest, Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s pack found them first, alerted by the forest to the presence of foreign wolves. 

Most of them settled in immediately, eager to forget about their tragedies. Even Wooyoung’s mother, who had spent the entire journey as a husk of she was, took on the duties of a priestess with ease, familiar with the teachings and the magic.

And Wooyoung hated her for it. 

He hated how she was able to drown her sorrows out in prayer, how she seemed to take solace in the Goddess when the Goddess hadn’t saved his alpha mother. His kind worshipped Her reverently, gave everything to her. And they received nothing in return. Every time he exploded at his mother, screaming at her, his mother would only smile and tell him that _ “ the Goddess cannot protect us from misfortune and death for she is a being that suffers too.”. _Wooyoung didn’t understand it until he discovered his own propensity for magic when he heard the earth call to him in his dreams, when basil sprouted all around him as he slept, the mark of Bhūmi.

“Wooyoung?”

His mother’s voice jerks him out of his reverie. They’ve stopped walking, just outside a small hut almost completely shrouded by plants. He sucks in a breath. 

His mother smiles comfortingly and takes hold of his hand. “Don’t worry. This is a good thing. I wonder what she will tell you. No matter what, I’m so proud of you my son,” she says, voice wavering. Wooyoung gives her a tight hug as if he can somehow pull strength from her, and without a word, walks up to the doorway and waits. 

He hears a soft _ ‘Enter’, _ so soft he isn’t sure he heard it at all. He walks in and is hit with the strong smell of basil and earth. It seems to come directly from the woman sitting in the middle, on the ground and surrounded by burning incense and bowls of water. Wooyoung has seen the seer only a few times. She keeps to herself and provides premonitions for the seasons and the harvest. Sometimes, she comes out to announce special visions, important ones that might affect the future of the pack. She has very rarely called for an individual. Wooyoung is a little terrified about his future. 

She looks up at him and smiles. It’s somehow both reassuring and unnerving. 

“Wooyoung. Come, sit.”

He makes his way to her clumsily and squats down in front. The room is cast in a muted light, dusk filtering through and bathing them in the early glow of the moon. She takes his hands and places them on her own, palms facing up. She’s still staring straight at him as if she can see through him.

“When you came here, I could sense you all the way from the edges of the forest. It was as if the forest began to sing the second you stepped in it. As if it finally came alive. You have so much of the Earth’s magic in you. 

Our relationship with Bhūmi is not one comparable to an all mighty being and its disciples. It is a balanced relationship; you give as She gives. You take as She takes. You are one and the same. That is the essence of all things born of the Earth.”

Wooyoung listens in silence, stunned. 

“But there’s something not everybody knows. Bhūmi walks the ground as one of us, in the form of our kind. But she is never alone. The Goddess is always accompanied by her other half, the Great Protector, for harmony only exists when those two are bound in the heavens and on Earth. The Dev and Devi find each other always, no matter the body they wear. 

Tomorrow you will find your other half, Wooyoung. I want you to remember that the harmony of the pack and the harmony within you must be preserved and nourished. For if you lose it, you lose everything. Choose wisely and listen to the Earth, not the pack. Not your mother and not your thoughts.

I can hear yours so clearly and tomorrow is so much more than a way to appease traditions and honour your lost pack members. You and your mate will bring peace to this Forest, as long as you listen to Bhūmi. She will guide you, Wooyoung.”

* * *

  
  


Wooyoung’s not sure how he makes it back to his hut. The seer’s words are a revelation he hadn’t expected at all. After his home was uprooted, Wooyoung spent his adolescence being the perfect omega. Diligent about his commitment to the pack and to the Goddess, he has prepared for his betrothal since as long as he can remember. But he never really regarded it as anything more than just his duty. 

He has to honour his pack somehow, and as an omega, this is how he can. But the seer spoke about listening to what he wanted and not what the pack wanted. Wooyoung has absolutely no idea what he wants. 

As a kid, he had wanted to grow up and mate a kind wolf, be happy and well and loved. Wooyoung isn’t really sure if he can have that now. He isn’t sure if he deserves to be loved. 

When the Pack Alpha calls for dinner, Wooyoung doesn’t move until Yeosang comes in and drags him out. The pack lounges around the small clearing, meat being skewered over a large fire. Wooyoung usually loves meals like this because they’re so rare. The entire pack sitting together and bathing in the warmth. He knows that Seonghwa organised this especially in honour of him, of an omega undergoing the mating ceremony and it leaves an acidic taste in his mouth. The meat he’s chewing tastes like rubber. Seonghwa stands up with a huge smile, Hongjoong watching him from the ground fondly, and gestures to Wooyoung, who fills with dread immediately. 

But before Seonghwa can utter a word, he stills, arms falling to his sides, nose turned up to the sky. Wooyoung feels it in the ground before he smells it. There are wolves skirting at the edge of their territory. They smell very heavily of blood and decay. The pack thrums with nervous energy as Seonghwa delegates a group to scout the foreign wolves. Wooyoung sits with his hands dug deep into the soil, body taut with anticipation. Because over the smell of wounds and hurt is something so familiar, something he never thought he’d smell ever again. 

The smell of hearth and home. 

Wooyoung knows it before Seonghwa even returns, yelling at the healers to carry the injured wolves in, Hongjoong and his mother rushing to support those who can barely walk. The scent overpowers him the closer it comes, the taste of smoky wood burning into his tongue. He stands up belatedly, rushing to help when Hongjoong yells at him to tend to those being carried in. As he moves closer, he finally sees him. If it hadn’t been for the scent, Wooyoung would have never recognised him.

He’s standing still too, just looking at Wooyoung. His hair has grown so much, it falls to his shoulders, and he stands strong, posture proud. His face is adorned by a large scar that runs right across his face, over the bridge of his nose and biting into the corner of his lips. 

San looks at Wooyoung with eyes that carry the weight of loss and anger. Eyes that were once bright and playful, now blank and accusatory. When San looks away from him, Wooyoung feels like he can breathe again but he doesn’t want to. Because San had looked at him with no recognition. With clear dismissal written all over him. And something in Wooyoung shatters at that.


	2. blood moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So sorry it took me so long to update this rippp  
But I'm back and with an organised writing schedule for this lool, so the next chapter should be out next weekend!  
This one got so emo lmfao apologies for that. 
> 
> hope you guys enjoy it!!

Wooyoung stays on the healing grounds until the sky fills with light again, helping his mother and the other healers tend to the wounded. There are only a few with serious injuries; gouged wounds infected as they remained neglected. Most of the wolves seem to suffer from exhaustion and dehydration, little pups barely able to open their eyes as they wordlessly gulp down the water Wooyoung tips into their mouths. 

Wooyoung is painfully aware of San’s unfailing presence throughout the night. The wolf hovers, assisting them wherever possible, kneeling down to scent his pack members thoroughly. It doesn’t surprise Wooyoung that San is the Pack Alpha, but he hasn’t mated yet. He doesn’t understand why the thought makes his stomach burn with an unknown emotion. 

San doesn’t leave until Seonghwa calls for him, taking away his cloying scent with him. When dawn breaks, Wooyoung’s mother sets her apparatus down, wiping at her brow with the back of her hand. It’s quiet, the wounded sleeping peacefully, lulled by the pulsing of the earth beneath them. The healing grounds are blessed areas, some strange magic, unknown even to Wooyoung, simmering underneath the brown soil. 

Wooyoung sways on his feet when he stands up, head swimming. A koel echoes a lilting call from somewhere close by, a sound that he hears every morning. The familiarity of it gives him warmth; at least some things remain unchanged. 

“Wooyoung, my son. Go get some rest,” his mother says. Wooyoung hadn’t realised she was standing right in front of him. She looks exhausted as well and Wooyoung wants to protest but he can’t seem to find the energy to do so. He nods wordlessly and begins making his way back to the village, body weary and sore. 

As he makes his way to the hut he shares with Yeosang, he passes by Seonghwa’s den and stops at the sound of raised voices. He knows he shouldn’t eavesdrop but Wooyoung doesn’t exactly pride himself on his restraint. He edges as close as possible to the sidewalls, so as not to make his presence known, straining his ears. Hongjoong and Seonghwa had been up the whole night too, tending to the other wolves, making space for them to sleep, cleaning up abandoned huts to make them liveable again. 

_ “How can you stay here and do absolutely nothing?” _

The anger in the question makes Wooyoung’s hackles rise. 

“_ I am not doing nothing. The protection of my pack is my first priority, you know this well San. I realise the situation is far more dire than we had previously thought, hence, our first action is to protect the pack. We cannot involve ourselves in the affairs of mortals.” _

_ “There won’t be a pack to protect if we don’t act now! Pack Alpha, there are absolutely no midlanders or northerners left. We’ve all been wiped out or displaced. The only surviving packs are here, in the forests, or in the snow mountains. You only survive because nature has protected you so far. What if the mortals spill over here? What if the devices they use become more dangerous? What will we do then? And what about all our brothers and sisters who’ve been stolen from us, do you not ca-” _

_ “Mind your words!” _ Wooyoung squeaks at the command in Seonghwa’s voice and then immediately slaps a hand over his mouth. _ Idiot. _Suddenly, there’s silence inside the den and then a deep sigh. 

“Wooyoung, you can come in,” Seonghwa says loudly and Wooyoung’s face burns. He pushes open the door and shuffles in, stilling at the sight of San leaning heavily against a table, entire posture tense and tight. San looks at him with narrowed eyes then pushes off the table, standing imposingly with his arms crossed at his chest. Wooyoung tries to look away from the scarred muscles of his biceps. 

“Wooyoung, I’m sorry you had to hear that-”

“No, let him hear it, he was affected by this as well, wasn’t he? Why else would he be here if not because his pack was wiped out too,” San interrupts, voice icy. _ San remembers him? _He almost doesn’t hear what he says next, mind foggy. 

“My pack was attacked by mortals wielding those strange machines. It wasn’t the first time, since the mortals began settling on the outskirts of the pine forests, we’ve had constant attacks from them. They never really aimed to kill us though, they just left us injured and weakened, sometimes knocking out a few of us and dragging us away. We thought they were just trying to run us out of our territories; they were succeeding, out of the ten great northern clans, only three remained intact. But then, the final attack, the one that forced us to flee for good, changed things. It wasn’t only the mortals that attacked us, it was _ wolves. _”

Wooyoung’s blood runs cold. “That can’t be possible- how?”

“That’s exactly what I thought. These wolves, they were almost unrecognisable if not for the clan markings on their fur. Feral and vicious, like they were stuck in their shapeshifting form, unable to process any human emotion. We barely got out, we were hunted for _ miles _ before we lost them. Somehow, the mortals have figured out how to, how to _ use _us, infect us with something, I don’t even know,” San spits out. “I- some of them we knew. Lost pack members we’d mourned moons ago.”

San pulls out a chair from under the table and sits down heavily. He closes his eyes and sits still. The taste of his anger and grief is so thick on Wooyoung’s tongue, it takes all his self-control to not go over to him and comfort him like his instincts demand. He doesn’t think San would appreciate that. Wooyoung feels a sharp sting in his arm and realises with a start that he’d pierced his own arm accidentally. Blood pearls up and Wooyoung watches it absentmindedly. 

“Why?” His own voice sounds garbled to him. “What is the- for what reason? All those packmates we lost, you’re telling me they were being experimented on? My mother-”

His voice breaks and he struggles to take a breath in. Seonghwa pulls him in, rubbing comfortingly at his arm and Wooyoung lets his Pack Alpha’s scent calm him down. When he looks at San, he looks agitated, eyes fixed on where Seonghwa continues to hold Wooyoung. Wooyoung’s stomach knots in disappointment. He hopes San isn’t one of those alphas who believe an unmated omega shouldn’t be touched by anyone but their mate. 

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to remind you of your grief. But Seonghwa, do you see what I mean? We’ve all lost too many people, our kind has diminished so greatly we barely exist anymore. Something needs to be done, we-we need to act!” San looks beseechingly at Seonghwa and then at Wooyoung. All of a sudden it feels like he’s looking into the eyes of a child, of the San he remembers. 

_ “Are you going to come back?” San is sniffling and fidgeting with his furs. Wooyoung rushes to him and wraps him up in a hug. San starts whining into his neck, scenting him furiously. Wooyoung thinks it’s cute, reminds him of the tiny little newborn pups back home and how clingy they are. _

_ “I don’t know,” he says, frowning. He really wants to come back. San is great and his friends are fun to play with. “But I’m going to remember you forever!” Embarrassingly, he starts crying a little as well. _

_ San pulls away from him and looks at him with wide eyes. _

_ “I’m going to remember you too! I promise, Wooyoung,” he says determinedly and Wooyoung smiles the widest he ever has, chubby cheeks and all. _

“Um, what’s happening?”

Wooyoung blinks and Hongjoong’s standing at the doorway, under eyes heavy and blue with lack of sleep. He’s carrying an armful of furs and clothing. He looks between the three of them, eyebrows raised. Seonghwa walks up to him and takes the bundle away from him, sweeping a thumb across Hongjoong’s cheek for a moment. 

“Pack Alpha San was telling us about a very worrying predicament. San, I will discuss this with my omega, and we will then present the matter to the entire pack. I don’t think it’s something only you or I can decide. Please, rest now and recover. You are now a part of this pack, and we will treat you as such.”

San sighs but acquiesces, getting up to leave. 

“Actually, all three of you are exactly the people I wanted to see, please wait a moment,” Hongjoong says, closing the door behind him. “Alpha San, I’ve brought some furs and clothing for you for the time being. We’ve cleared out the hut next to the stream for you, one of us will take you to it.”

Then Hongjoong looks at Wooyoung and his face crumples. “Wooyoungie, we need to make a decision about your betrothal.”

Wooyoung’s skin chills. He had completely forgotten about it, how could he have forgotten? By dusk, eligible wolves from the neighbouring clans would arrive for the ceremony, there was no way to inform them of the situation. 

“Bethrotal?” San’s looking at Wooyoung with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Yes, I’m very sorry, but today marks the Blood Moon and Wooyoung’s maturation. It is an incredibly auspicious day and nearby clans will be attending. Alpha San, we can move the ceremony to some other date, I will speak to the priestess-”

“No, no, I apologise. Unfortunately, our timing was just bad,” San says with a slight smile, cheek dimpling. “Please go on with the ceremony, maybe it will bring us all some luck and happiness. Unless of course, Wooyoung would like to annul it?”

San looks at Wooyoung questioningly and Wooyoung finds it hard to swallow. Does he want to cancel it? He isn’t really sure. But he shakes his head and mutters a small no. San’s face is unreadable for a moment before he smiles again. 

“Since Wooyoung has approved it, please do go ahead. From what I can sense, my pack has been tended to very well and are healing fast so we should not be a hindrance tonight. I thank you for all your help. Wooyoung, I congratulate you on your coming of age,” San says, voice soft, bowing a little, eyes locked with Wooyoung’s. 

“Ah, you and the eligible unmated wolves in your pack are also allowed to participate, if you so wish to,” Hongjoong chirps happily and Wooyoung wants to murder him. He tries grabbing Hongjoong’s attention, trying to convey that asking San to take part was _ so _inappropriate, no way would he want to compete for Wooyoung’s-

“I would be honoured to. If Wooyoung will have me. There is one more unmated wolf in my pack, I will ask Mingi as well.”

Wooyoung stares, slack-jawed at San. But San looks unphased, hopeful. Not resigned or disgusted. San keeps staring at him and Wooyoung realises he’s waiting for an answer. He nods furiously and opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Hongjoong claps his hands, gleeful, gesturing at Seonghwa to hand San the furs. 

“Fantastic! Wooyoung, will you please show San his hut? You know the one, yes?” Hongjoong asks breezily, already walking up to Seonghwa and laying his head on Seonghwa’s chest so his voice comes out muffled. Seonghwa just chuckles and waves at Wooyoung and San, who make their way out quickly. 

Outside, it’s unusually quiet. Most days, before the sun is even up, people are milling about, working, going about their tasks. Now, it looks like a ghost village, everyone resting in their homes after the tension from last night. Wooyoung walks by little huts, patches of grass and greenery with San by his side. San’s scent hangs heavy between them, like a small fire warming the space up. Wooyoung wonders if his own scent is as noticeable to San. The silence between them is stifling, Wooyoung has _ so _ much to say but he doesn’t know how to.

San beats him to it. “Did you- how long ago did you come here?” San asks, voice crisp in the morning’s silence. 

“Um, around seven summers ago, I think. I- our pack was attacked in the same way as yours, we lost many, including the Pack Alpha, my mother, if you remember,” Wooyoung’s voice trails off. 

“Of course, I remember. I promised you I would never forget,” San murmurs, and Wooyoung stops short. The trickle of the stream nearby seeps into the air. “I’m very sorry about the loss of your mother. I understand the pain.”

“You- did you, as well?” The urge to hold on to San, to cry, to laugh, anything, is so strong, Wooyoung’s body thrums with nervous energy. He looks down at his feet surreptitiously, afraid little sprouts have begun to grow from all the anxious magical energy he must be feeding the earth. 

“Both of them- it was one of the first ones, I was around fourteen summers. I never saw them again. Needless to say, I had to learn how to lead a pack before I even presented,” San says with a bitter laugh. “Don’t think I did a very good job.”

San’s scent sours, dismay tasting vile. Wooyoung still can’t process what he just said though. San’s had to lead a pack all by himself for _ years _, fending off mortals, trying to protect his packmates. Wooyoung thinks of how many wolves had come with San, maybe twenty? More? Just as many as Wooyoung’s pack. Wooyoung wants to tell him he’s enough, he’s done more than enough but San looks lost in himself, eyes unseeing. 

Wooyoung looks around and spots the little hut Hongjoong had prepared for San and awkwardly gestures to it. 

“Uh, here, this one right here is yours.” San’s face brightens and he smiles at Wooyoung. 

“Thank you so much, I’ll leave you to rest as well, now,” San says and Wooyoung’s already moving away, ready to scream into his furs in embarrassment when San calls his name out softly. 

“Wooyoung I- I don’t want you to feel obliged to accept me as a suitor tonight. If it would make you feel more comfortable-”

“No!” Wooyoung’s loud voice startles a few birds, flapping out of the tree branches in a frenzy. “I mean, no I’m okay with you- um taking part. I’d like you to.” Wooyoung’s voice is faint and he knows his face is red and he tries not to look at San. He hears a small giggle and smiles despite himself. 

“Okay. _ Oh, _” San walks up to him and places a warm palm on his cheek lightly. “You haven’t lost these.” San’s smiling so wide the scar that digs into his lip stretches. Wooyoung can’t look away from it. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Wooyoung makes his way back to his hut giddily and falls asleep with so much warmth in his belly he feels like he might burst. When he wakes again, it’s to the bustling sounds of people moving, chattering excitedly, lights twinkling outside the window and falling onto Wooyoung’s skin. It’s almost dusk, the sky softening into darkness and Wooyoung feels like he’s floating in some in-between place of waking and sleeping. He marvels at the calmness in his tummy. For so many years, he’s waited for this day in anticipation, anxious about the outcome. Today, it feels like something has slid into place. 

There’s a soft knock on his door and it’s pushed open to reveal Yeosang, who peeks in with wide eyes. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake. The forest clans have arrived already, there are so many alphas walking around, it’s hard to breathe. This is, very weird for me,” Yeosang mutters, coming in and fidgeting with his tunic. Wooyoung wants to laugh but he thinks Yeosang might hit him if he does. 

“Yeosangie, come here, let me hug you,” Wooyoung whines, stretching his arms out. Yeosang scoffs, muttering something about how Wooyoung is going to have to be scrubbed clean but he comes forward and allows Wooyoung to mold himself around him, squeezing tight. 

“In a few months, I’ll be- I won’t be unmated for much longer as well. I’m not going to have anyone around here till then,” Yeosang says, voice uncharacteristically soft. Wooyoung smiles into Yeosang’s hair, breathing in lungfuls of his sweet, apple scent. 

“You’ll have me, I promise. I don’t care what my mate thinks, they’ll have no opinion in this matter. I’ll come to get you ready myself. In any case, there were a few unmated omegas in San’s pack as well, I assume Hongjoong will ask them to move in here soon. You won’t be alone Yeosangie,” Wooyoung assures. 

Yeosang sniffs a little and pulls away from him, a tiny smile on his face. “Anyways, how are _ you _feeling? Aren’t you afraid you’re going to be stuck with some horrible wolf?”

Wooyoung blinks. “I’m- I feel okay, actually, good even. I don’t think that’s going to happen,” he says absently and Yeosang frowns, something settling in his eyes when there’s another knock on the door. His mother walks in and her face blooms with happiness at the sight of Wooyoung and Yeosang wrapped around each other like pups. Her eyes are shining and Wooyoung suddenly feels a deep gnawing sadness, as if he’s a child again and needs his mother to hold him and protect him from the world. 

“Wooyoungie. Come, we need to prepare, my son.” 

The omega hut is placed in a strategic corner, away from the main clearing and away from any wandering eyes hoping to catch a peek of the intended omega before the ceremony. Still, Wooyoung’s wrapped up to his eyes in fur and shuffled outside to the outskirts of the village, towards the bubbling springs. 

The ever-present lotus flowers float leisurely and the water seems to sparkle in the dying light of the sun. They’re joined by the other disciples who bring with them the important tools for Wooyoung’s bathing ceremony. His mother dons the Priestess’ robes and Wooyoung is placed in a simple white robe that ties loosely around his waist. The disciples light incense and Wooyoung watches how the smoke curls over the water. They sit in silence as the Priestess guides meditation, the only sounds the gurgle of the water and the calls of wild animals deep inside the forest. 

When he opens his eyes again, he’s being guided to a mat, disrobed and surrounded by disciples who cup the spring’s water in their hands and pour it all over Wooyoung, reciting incantations as the water trickles down his skin. The ritual continues for a while, breaks taken to scrub at Wooyoung’s skin with scentless soap and ointments. When they’re done and he’s pat dry, sweet-smelling oil is massaged into his skin. Wooyoung realises the oil only serves to accentuate his own almond and rose scent. His mother comes before him and draws sigils on his forehead with the water, murmuring something over and over. 

Arms pull at him gently to stand up and a beautiful, flowing tunic is fit onto him. The material is sheer and white, gold flowers and leafs etched into it and the pants are lined with gold embroidery on the sides. Wooyoung has no doubt this was made by Hongjoong, the complex patterns and painstaking stitching a demonstration of his skill. When he moves, the tunic whirls with him, the flowers glimmering. 

The moon rises into the sky, heavy and bulbous as they set his hair. It’s pulled back and secured with decorated brooches until his hair falls behind his ears, just below his chin. A flower wreath is secured onto his crown and Wooyoung feels it ground him, energy pulsing into his entire body. 

They leave him alone, his mother placing a hand on his shoulder in comfort, and allow him to conduct the next part on his own. He must convene with the goddess and ask for her blessings. When he’d been preparing for this, Wooyoung had always felt frustrated that he couldn’t feel more than the life force of the forest, couldn’t really hear Bhūmi’s words to him. His mother had urged him to just listen to the forest, that was more than enough. 

So, he sits on the banks of the spring, closes his eyes, forgets about everything, all their troubles and lets his hands fall deep into the earth, his own energy reaching down until it touches the pounding core of the forest. The light of the moon illuminates everything in its wake and Wooyoung draws on that too until his whole body feels like it’s burning up. For an instant, it feels like he’s overwhelmed with life in the forest. The crunching of dried leaves under the paws of a panther, the tapping noises of tree-huggers as they bore into the bark, even the bleeding of prey, energy seeping into the soil. 

He’s weightless, lost in the thrum of the forest when he remembers. _ It’s him. It’s always him, no matter where we are. He looks like the phosphorescent green of the trees, the brightness of the night sky, the swirling pull of the water. He was birthed by it all and as he stands there, a hand stretched out towards me, I know if I take it, if I walk into his arms, the world will follow. _

  
  


* * *

  
  


It takes a while for him to even remember his own name. When they come back to retrieve him, wrapping a cloak with a large hood around him, he still feels like he’s floating somewhere high above. He’s walking, hands on his shoulders, being guided back to the main clearing, laughter and booming voices getting louder and louder. He feels a hand around his arm and whips his head around to see his mother’s concerned face. She gasps and takes his face in her hands, eyes boring into his. 

“Wooyoung? You- Wooyoung, can you hear me?”

Her voice sounds like it’s coming from above the little pool he’s curled up in. She repeats herself, shaking his face a little and he surges up, breaking the surface until he can hear clearly again. He curls his fingers around her hand, shaky. 

“I’m- I’m fine. I don’t actually know what happened,” he says, voice hoarse. His mother sighs deeply and adjusts his clothes nervously. 

“I think you managed to speak to the Goddess after all,” she says, an odd expression on her face. Wooyoung frowns and his mind clouds again. 

“I- I don’t know?”

“Wooyoung, your eyes were white. Nothing, just a milky, white. You were looking at me without seeing me. I-I hope you’re okay,” his mother says frantically, choking on her words. She looks close to sobbing and Wooyoung immediately buries his face in her shoulder, revelling in her comforting scent. 

“I’m okay, I’m fine, I promise,” he whispers into her robes. Roaring laughter breaks out into the sky and he jerks, remembering how close they are to the rest of their pack, to all the wolves waiting to see Wooyoung, compete for his hand. Looking at his mother, he feels the urge to curl up in her lap and let her play with his hair. 

“Ma, I’m-” He can’t quite say the words. But she looks like she understands him, looks at him with smiling eyes and so much pride. She takes his hand in hers, adjusts the hood of the cloak so it covers most of his face, and guides him forward until they reach the clearing and there’s an audible hush. He can hear fire crackling, can see how half of the ground has been cleared for him, to perform and present himself. His mother squeezes his hand one last time and slips away. 

When he lifts up the hood and drops the cloak, the fire surges higher. He can’t quite see all the wolves standing behind it, can only see silhouettes illuminated by the flames. He takes comfort in that as the sound of drumming begins, and the quivering notes of a flute accompany it. He lets the music fill him up, loses himself in it and begins to dance. 

He doesn’t feel like himself. Like someone is stringing his body along to some unknown sound. He twirls and jumps until he can’t hear the music anymore. Until the only sounds he can hear are his own heartbeat and the cacophony of the forest. It feels as if the trees surrounding them stretch, growing taller and imposing until they reach the surface of the moon, so large in the sky it looks like it might break apart at the seams and fall onto the ground. Wooyoung feels it happening before everyone sees it. Slowly, the moon does rip apart, bleeding red into the sky. He hears the gasps and shouts of people from far away, letting his body wash in the blood. The flames in front of him rise higher and higher, until his whole body is covered in perspiration, oils dripping down his skin. He almost can’t recognise the shadow of his figure on the ground. 

When the sky washes away the blood and the moon shines bright again, Wooyoung stops, clothes soaked and sticking to his skin. Through the receding flames, he catches familiar eyes and as he stands barefoot, soil clenched between his toes, he understands what the Seer had meant about listening to the Earth. 

  
  


The rest is a blur. 

He barely registers the clapping, booms of approval from all the gathered wolves. He’s taken away again, wiped down and dressed into a red robe that falls across his body like water. He’s seated on something that looks like a dais made of furs and bits of leaves and petals as wolves come up to him one by one with courting offers. 

He recognises some of them, Yunho, from the clans bordering the north of the forest, places a boar’s head by his feet, looking at him meaningfully. Wooyoung blushes; he’d met Yunho once years ago and remembers him as the tall, lanky alpha with a lot of energy. Now, Yunho has grown into his body and holds Wooyoung’s eyes with ease. 

More wolves leave propitious gifts: thick, silky furs, corded jewellery and hunted animals. Wooyoung feels more and more restless. The rest of his pack mingles, dancing and singing, rejoicing. Wooyoung wishes longingly that he could join them, embarrassed by all the wolves coming up to him and looking at him with hopeful eyes. 

He’s looking into the distance, watching Yeosang dance with a short beta who looks at him with stars in his eyes when he hears a short, “My gift to you, omega.”

He snatches his eyes away to see San kneeling at his feet, long hair tied into a neat braid. When he straightens up, Wooyoung can see the markings across his face drawn in paint, symbols that brand him as a northerner. San smiles at him and stays on his knees. Wooyoung looks down to see what San brought him and gasps. It’s a beautiful, ornate bow, covered with tiny sigils, strung tight. Something about it is painfully familiar. 

“When your mother came to visit us all those years ago, she gifted my father with this bow, having fashioned it herself. My father kept it in his home for years after, untouched. I remember asking him why he never used it and he always said it wasn’t his to use. When my parents were taken, I forgot about it completely but the day I fled with my pack, something, some instinct reminded me to take the bow with me. Maybe I thought I would need the extra weaponry. But I think, it guided me all the way here, back to you, who it truly belongs to.” 

And Wooyoung remembers his mother chiselling the wood herself, fashioning little arrows and allowing Wooyoung to trail his fingers all over them. He picks up the bow with shaking fingers and doesn’t realise the water falling onto his lap comes from the tears streaming down his face. San reaches forward, brushing his fingers across his cheeks, wiping away the tears. Wooyoung can hear a few wolves gasp and mutter. It isn’t appropriate for eligible wolves to touch the intended before the omega has chosen their mate. But Wooyoung doesn’t care at all, allows San to press his thumbs into his cheeks, clenching the bow tight in his hands. He’s already made his decision. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you wanna talk about the lore etc, feel free to leave a comment!


	3. when i'm reborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! omg never believe whenever I say a chapter will be out soon, I severely underestimate my ability to procrastinate rip.  
this one's slightly longer so i hope you like it!  
i'm literally making up the lore as i go along so if you have any questions/would like to talk about it, feel free to leave a comment!
> 
> big thank you to val and kay for beta reading!

“_Already? _” 

Seonghwa looks at the way San’s hand is clasped in Wooyoung’s with a scandalised expression, mouth gaping. Hongjoong tuts and whacks Seonghwa in the chest, who yelps and mutters, “My love, it took you three challenges to accept me. Wooyoung’s chosen his intended after the _ gifting _ ceremony.”

Wooyoung blushes, shuffling on his feet in front of the dais that San had helped him down from. The moment San had presented Wooyoung with the bow, he couldn’t imagine even thinking of anyone else. It should be inappropriate, too soon. He’d met San so briefly, there’s so much history lost between them. But he can’t explain why it feels so familiar to hold San’s hand, to look into his smiling eyes and see warmth and home. 

Silence has fallen across the clearing, the only sounds the crackling of the swelling fire and the call of the wild deep within the forest. Everyone’s looking at them, almost a hundred or more wolves waiting in anticipation for the Pack Alpha’s blessing. Wooyoung can see his mother and Yeosang amongst the crowd and expects to see disapproval on their faces, outrage at Wooyoung’s haste. There are usually a few more ceremonies that follow the gift-giving. The omega chooses a few contenders who duel with each other or compete in a hunt. It’s not unheard of but it is odd, untraditional, to choose an alpha so soon. But they’re both smiling, Yeosang’s grin far more sleazy than his mother’s. He feels San’s palm clench in his and looks up at the alpha only to find him staring back at Wooyoung with wide eyes. He looks anxious, brows furrowed. 

“Wooyoung, are you sure? I am not the kind of alpha you want to be saddled with,” San murmurs, pressing his lips together. For a moment, Wooyoung looks at him, at how the muscles in his arms jump with tension, the clan symbol of the northern bear jerking into motion on his skin. There are beads braided into his hair, a few strands falling free into his face. There’s another scar almost hidden within his hairline, tiny but raised. Wooyoung burns with the realisation that he wants to spend the rest of his life mapping out all the scars on San’s body. 

“Do you want me?” The question comes out abruptly. Wooyoung bites his lip in embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to ask something so blatant but he had spoken his mind. San threads his fingers between Wooyoung’s and holds his gaze with purpose. 

“I have never wanted anything more.” 

There’s a warmth within him that burns brighter than the flames in the distance. He has the odd feeling of being sheltered, as if the very sky, the forest has cocooned around them. 

“Well, I guess I should’ve expected this, Wooyoung.” Seonghwa’s fond voice sounds far away and Wooyoung whips around to watch him approach them with something hanging from his hands. It’s a flower garland, small buds of jasmine roped together. Seonghwa stops right in front of them and presents the garland to Wooyoung, a small smile on his face. “If this makes you happy then we give you our blessings wholeheartedly.” He takes San’s gift from Wooyoung’s hand and passes it along to Wooyoung’s mother, who clutches it with tears in her eyes. She looks up at Wooyoung and mouths a shaky, _ I love you. _Wooyoung can’t even begin to imagine how she must feel.

Wooyoung hefts the garland in his hands and turns back to San who already has his head bowed, palm on his chest. When Wooyoung places the garland around his neck carefully, the buds bloom open the minute they touch San’s skin, white flowers a beautiful contrast to his tanned skin. 

“Oh!” San exclaims and looks at Wooyoung with his head tilted, a bemused expression on his face. 

“This a good sign alpha, don’t worry. It means the Goddess approves of Wooyoung’s choice.” The new voice comes from the far end of the clearing and Wooyoung’s breath catches in his throat. The Seer stands, swathed in white cloth and furs and watches them with a strange expression. She pins Wooyoung with her gaze and inclines her head just the slightest bit. 

“Well, then! Omega Wooyoung from the Lotus tribe of the forests has chosen Alpha San, from the Great Northern Bear clans, as his mate! We must rejoice!” 

Hongjoong’s voice rings heavy in the air, followed by a roaring cacophony of revelry from all the wolves. Immediately, the grounds are a dizzying sight, wolves dancing around, walking up to them to congratulate the newly mated couple, patting at their arms in approval. Wooyoung loses his hold on San and can’t see him, searching desperately between the people crowding him, shouting _ Wonderful! _ and _ Congratulations! _in his ears. Someone grabs onto his hand and pulls harshly till Wooyoung’s gasping in clean, scentless air, a little away from the crowd. 

“Hey! You okay? You looked like you were going to fall down, I know that face.” Yeosang is standing in front of him, eyebrows pinched tight. Wooyoung breathes deep and turns around, hoping San isn’t being swamped. He finds him standing next to the tall alpha that came with him, Mingi, looking around for something. When he meets Wooyoung’s eyes, he seems to sag in relief, smiling brightly.

“He’s fine, don’t worry. I guess I should say congratulations, huh?” Yeosang’s smirk makes Wooyoung want to punch him. “Seriously, Wooyoungie. I’m happy for you. He’s-he’s the one, isn’t he?” His words are vague but Wooyoung understands_. _

Wooyoung just sighs and comes closer to hug Yeosang, breathing in his calming scent. He’s trembling a little, he realises belatedly, breath coming out in tufts on Yeosang’s neck. “Yeosangie. I’m scared.” But no, that’s not right. It’s not really fear he feels. It’s something boiling in the pit of his stomach, something making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The impending feeling of something monumental taking place. 

Yeosang holds him tighter as if he’s trying to squeeze out all of Wooyoung’s worries from his body. As if he’s a tiny bit scared too. 

“Yeosang? I-” 

There’s a beta standing in front of them, shrinking a little when Wooyoung looks at him over Yeosang’s shoulder. Yeosang buries his head in Wooyoung’s neck, the heat from his face burning into Wooyoung’s skin. Wooyoung rears back to look at Yeosang with wide eyes. He’s _never _seen Yeosang like this, like he’s _ shy. _Wooyoung wants to laugh. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll come back-”

“No, it’s okay. Yeosangie’s free now,” Wooyoung chirps, untangling himself from Yeosang, pointedly ignoring the glare Yeosang gives him. He pushes him towards the beta gently and watches in awe as Yeosang peeks at the beta in a way that might look dismissive to anyone else; anyone who couldn’t see how red the back of Yeosang’s neck is, anyone who couldn’t smell the sharp spike in his scent. 

“Wooyoung, this is Jongho, from the Panther tribe near the eastern borders. He’s- his brother was one of the contenders. Jongho is very skilled with the axe, he’s known for his strength in his tribe.” Jongho stares at Yeosang reverently, like he’s delighted Yeosang remembers these things about him. He reaches up, hand flexing in the air as if he doesn’t know whether he should touch Yeosang or not while Yeosang inches a little closer to him. Wooyoung is incredibly surprised by how familiar they are with each other already. 

“They’re- uh, everyone’s dancing, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to dance with me?” He asks timidly, and Yeosang nods at him, not quite smiling. They seem to remember Wooyoung is still standing there and Jongho jerks. 

“Ah, Omega Wooyoung, I think they’re waiting for you as well, you and your mate should dance together.” Wooyoung shivers and immediately spins around to find San. _ Your mate. _San’s talking to some wolves, throwing his head back and laughing, little beads of sweat pooling on his temples from his proximity to the fire. As if he senses Wooyoung’s gaze on him, he turns around to return the stare, stretching a hand out towards Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung leaves Jongho and Yeosang absently, eyes fixated on San’s until he’s standing right in front of him, letting San envelop his palm with his hands. 

“Omega Wooyoung! I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake. San drools in his sleep and squeezes you like a snake. You’re going to be spending the rest of your life with _ many _broken ribs.” The tall, gangly alpha from San’s pack is grinning down at him, eyes twinkling. Next to him, Yunho and Seonghwa guffaw. 

“Mingi! That’s quite daring coming from the alpha that won’t sleep unless someone plays with his hair,” San shoots back, cheeks red. Mingi squawks, arguing incomprehensibly with San in an easy, familiar way and with a start, Wooyoung realises he knows Mingi. Had met him when he was a child, remembers the way the alpha was limber and lanky even as a child, smile just as wide and bright. 

“Mingi… I-I remember San promised you head pats every time you lost in a game and cried,” he murmurs. Mingi stops short and gapes at him. “I think, I’m not sure,” he adds hastily. Mingi swallows and stares at San, eyes glistening. “It really is him, isn’t it? My good ear’s still working right, I didn’t hear him incorrectly? I didn’t think, I didn’t believe you’d actually found him after all this time.” Suddenly he’s being scooped up in a tight hug, face smushed in Mingi’s chest, San yelling at Mingi to _ be careful, idiot! _ Mingi pulls away reluctantly and beams at Wooyoung. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m just so happy for you guys!” He says in a burst and then his face colours. “But I can’t believe that’s what you remember about me,” he grouses. Yunho chuckles and claps Mingi on the back. 

“Don’t worry, it’s sweet. Like a pup.” Yunho’s voice is teasing and Mingi whines. Wooyoung can’t help but be endeared as well, watching the way the alpha’s eyes widen beseechingly. Seonghwa clears his throat and places a hand on Wooyoung and San’s shoulders. 

“It’s time. Everyone’s waiting for the celebrations to truly begin and we can’t start without the two of you,” he says, winking at them. He pushes them forward lightly, where wolves have already cleared a space for them. San’s hand is a little clammy in his and Wooyoung keeps his eyes fixed on their hands as San guides them up. He can feel San’s gaze on him, the way it seems to bore through him. He’s not sure if he can look him right in the eyes right now, standing close enough that he can feel the measured breaths San takes on his cheeks. 

“Wooyoung. _ My _ Wooyoung, could you look at me?”

Wooyoung feels like his heart is going to drop into his stomach. The way San sounds, mellow and dulcet_ . _He looks up at San, muscles trembling, and exhales shakily. “Are you okay with doing this? We don’t have to, I’m sure they’ll let us retire to bed early.” But Wooyoung doesn’t want to, he wants to be close to San, likes the way San looks at him, all gentle and soft but with something fiery simmering underneath. The way his other hand comes to slide across Wooyoung’s waist carefully, palm spread wide against the small of his back. 

So he shakes his head and moves, guiding San with him, twirling across the ground, skirting the fire. He hadn’t expected San to keep up with him, but he does, gracefully, letting Wooyoung guide them, spinning him around mischievously when Wooyoung least expects it. As he had before, Wooyoung doesn’t pay attention to the people around them, focused on the way San’s arm feels under his fingers, taut, and the wide, almost dangerous smile on his face every time Wooyoung brushes up against his chest. This time, Wooyoung is sure he doesn’t imagine the way the very trees stop swaying to watch them. 

He loses time again, unsure how long they dance for, joined by pack members, spinning around in someone else’s arms momentarily, dipping Mingi low much to the alpha’s excitement and swaying back to back with Hongjoong. All the while, he’s aware of San’s presence, even when he isn’t within his line of sight. The earth helps him, Wooyoung’s entire body aware of every nimble step San takes, the ground crunching below his feet.

  
  


* * *

  
  


At some point, he’s back in San’s arms but they’re no longer dancing. They’re moving, somewhere, Wooyoung’s dimly aware of people hovering next to them and then going away, recognises his mother and Hongjoong when they come up to speak to San, brush their fingers in Wooyoung’s hair in farewell. He comes to when they’re standing still. They’re outside San’s hut, the one the alpha has just moved into. Wooyoung had completely forgotten that they would begin living together so soon. With Wooyoung’s maturation, his heat is inevitable, and will probably show up any day now. 

“Wooyoung? Wooyoung, hey.” San’s whispering in his ear, still holding on to him tightly like he’s afraid Wooyoung might fall. Wooyoung thinks he might, feels a tiny bit faint. He’s painfully aware of San’s skin touching his but he doesn’t want to move away, finds the sensation comforting. His head thuds onto San’s shoulder and he leans back to look into San’s eyes. San smiles just a little, tiny imprint of a dimple appearing on his cheek. 

“There you are. Your mother said this-this is something that’s started happening?” Wooyoung isn’t sure what he means until he realises he’s probably referring to the way Wooyoung seems to lose time. He doesn’t know what everyone else sees. He frowns, “I-I’m not sure, I feel like I don’t realise that time has passed. I feel like I’m-I’m not really there. I can’t explain it, it’s like I’m everywhere at once.” San hums, voice wavering and carries Wooyoung inside. 

It’s small but much bigger than the Omega hut. It’s clean, bedspreads laid out neatly, saturated with San’s hearthy scent. Wooyoung loves it already. He pulls San forward until they’re sprawled across the furs, uncaring of the fact that they’re still clothed and sweaty. He’s far too warm and comfortable and really enjoying the way San strokes his hair. 

“Y- your eyes, Wooyoung. Do you feel alright?” Wooyoung whines a little at the worry in San’s voice, not completely understanding why his alpha is upset. He lets out thick, comforting pheromones trying to urge his alpha to settle down, wrap himself around-

Wooyoung starts, sitting up suddenly and almost smacking San in the face. He isn’t sure if it’s because he’s tired or overwhelmed by San's scent all around the home, but he had let his instincts take over completely. He suddenly remembers where they are, that they’re alone now. Would San expect them to consummate the mating right now? Wooyoung’s heart begins to thud at the thought. 

San must sense Wooyoung’s anxiety and gets up from the bedspreads, moving away to reach for a jug of water. He comes back with a cloth in his hand and settles himself in front of Wooyoung.

“Um, it was traditional in my pack to bathe with your mate on the night of the ceremony. I don’t wish to do anything you wouldn’t want, I would simply like to take care of you and allow you to sleep.” San doesn’t quite look at Wooyoung but his words are heavy and sincere. Wooyoung opens his mouth to say something, he isn’t entirely sure what, maybe convince San to just do it, it doesn’t matter, it wouldn’t look good if they show up without mating bites tomo-

“Wooyoung, I promise. We don’t have to do anything, right now. There is no hurry, we have so much time. I want you to be comfortable and happy. And when you’re ready, I will take you the way you wish, the way you deserve.” Wooyoung trembles, not in fear, but in anticipation. He stands up slowly and untangles the red tunic stuck to his skin, until it falls and pools around his feet, until he’s only dressed in his undergarments. 

San sucks in a breath but doesn’t stall, wetting the cloth in his hand and rubbing at Wooyoung’s skin gently. The water smells of something strong but earthy, like neem. San slathers it all over Wooyoung’s skin, gently swiping away all the sweat and dirt from his body, the soil stuck to his feet. When he’s done, he brings out a robe for Wooyoung to wear, holding it sheepishly, muttering, “If you don’t mind, I’d like it if you would wear one of my nightclothes, I-just, the scent.” Wooyoung accepts it readily, more than eager to smell more like San. 

San wipes himself down with a clean cloth and dresses as well. Wooyoung tries not to let his eyes linger on the strong muscles of San’s calves, his taut abdomen. There are so many scars splattered across his body, tears on his side and back. He wonders where they’re from, wonders how much San must have suffered. 

“Oh, they’re not that exciting,” San mutters. Wooyoung must have said it all out loud. “Most of them are actually from hunts. I was very reckless and threw myself into danger far too easily. Father always yelled at me about it.” San comes towards the bedspreads and pauses. When Wooyoung shifts to the side so there’s place for San, he lays down gingerly, a good distance away from him. Wooyoung doesn’t move, unsure if San would mind if he slept close to him. 

“The one on my face, I’m sure you’ve noticed that one, it’s quite ugly.” Wooyoung makes a small noise of disapproval, trying to convey that he doesn’t think it’s ugly at all and San smiles wryly. 

“That one was from my first hunt. I was reckless-too reckless. Scented down a massive bear and took off before the rest of the pack could follow. Got swiped across the face and narrowly missed my eye. It wasn’t too deep so my sense of smell wasn’t permanently affected.” San shifts restlessly, clutching at the bedspread as if he’s remembering the phantom pain. 

“But I-I caused a lot of pain that day, two other wolves were also injured. Mingi was thrown across and hit the side of his head on a rock. He still can’t hear very well from his right ear. The other wolf, Woojin, almost lost a leg.” When San’s voice gets rougher, Wooyoung throws all caution to the wind and shuffles closer, gently placing his cheek on top of San’s arm, rubbing against the skin, trying to diffuse the scent of grief and guilt. San starts a little and carefully turns so he’s cupping Wooyoung’s cheeks in his hands. 

“How did you- Why did you choose to compete for my hand? Why would you want to mate with me?” The question rushes out in a breath but Wooyoung doesn’t want to take it back. It’s been plaguing his mind since San asked for his permission this morning. For a moment, San just looks at him. 

“Wooyoung, your scent led me here.” Wooyoung doesn’t say a word, he’s not sure if he can. “I- we knew we wouldn’t be able to survive the journey to the snow mountains, snow is no stranger to us but that territory is far too risky, too unknown. No one has ever seen the mountain clans. The only other option was to seek refuge in the forests. We made our way slowly, through the barren lands, along the sea, trying to stay away from mortal settlements, until we reached the south. The only way we remained undetected was because of magical glamours and the gratuitous assistance of mer creatures when we crossed the sea. If we had encountered poisoned wolves, I think we would have never made it.”

“When we entered the forests, I thought we’d made a grave mistake. Everything just seemed so strange and dangerous, your territory is far more unforgiving than ours. But halfway through, no idea where we were, I picked up your scent. I urged my pack to follow it and it took us two more days to reach your pack. If I hadn’t followed your scent, we may well be rotting corpses in the swamps of the forest.” 

Wooyoung doesn’t recall the journey he made with his mother when tragedy befell them. They hadn’t had to travel as far as San’s pack, already across the sea in the midland woods. He thinks of how San had looked at him when he first came and thinks that maybe he had mistaken shock for apathy. San must misunderstand his silence because he grasps Wooyoung’s cheeks just a little tighter. 

“I’m trying to say that I’m always drawn to you. Even when we were young. I know-I know this is so soon, but it feels like I need to stay by your side, that you’re important to me. I want to- want to be there for you. To be yours, and you mine.” 

Wooyoung hums, whole body thrumming with contentment, the feeling of something just right. He places a quick kiss on San’s palms and scooches closer, until he’s all but draped over the alpha. San doesn’t seem to mind at all, just laughs and holds Wooyoung gently, like he’s afraid he’ll leave. 

“You met _ mer creatures? _”

“... Is that all you heard?”

“Noo, of course not, I’m just- mer creatures are so elusive, so _ ancient. _ We lived so close to the sea and were always warned never to get too close. Maybe I met them once too, when we came to visit you in the north. But I don’t remember it at all. How did you even manage it?”

“A lot of begging. I think they took pity on us, helped us across on small boats, not unlike the ones mortals use. To tell you the truth, I still can’t believe it, I’ll tell you all about it one day.”

“Mhm. Thank you Sannie, you-I’m so happy.” 

“Me too, pup.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Wooyoung dreams of sleep. He has the distant sensation of being in a long slumber, cocooned somewhere warm and gritty, so dark it feels like light will never reach him. 

_ The roots of the heart are stuck so deep in the soil, tangled into each other that they form a little bed for him, knobby wood digging into his back as he slumbers. It is the very sensation that begins to wake him, the scratching of the soil, the shifting of neverending roots as he’s pulled back into the surface. It’s still dark but if he looks up, the light of the sun peeks out slowly, waking up with him. He gets up, slowly, as if his body is not used to movement yet and begins to walk around. Something brushes against his body multiple times, something hard and coiled like a snake. He yells and falls onto the ground. The sun rises higher and higher as more light trickles in. _

_ He’s surrounded by what look like vines, or tree branches, thousands upon thousands that hang from the sky like a curtain of hair. He looks up and up and up and sees a massive trunk, so wide he’s sure it’s the expanse of his entire village. The tree reaches up into the sky so high, he realises it blocks out light, sun rays falling through the gaps of its thick foliage. _

_ There’s something about the tree that seems never-ending. As if it covers the entire expanse of the ground and sky, hair-like vines anchoring it into the ground. The longer Wooyoung stares at it, the more it feels as if the trunk is pulsing, slow and steady. It’s a calm, heady feeling, as if he’s sitting in the safest place in the world, as if no harm can come to him here. _

_ But the more he waits and listens, he realises there’s a strange noise, barely audible, like it’s just in his mind. He gets up and searches for it restlessly but it stays soft, barely there. No matter how much Wooyoung runs, trying to run around the trunk of the tree, but it just feels like chasing the same straight path, the tree far too large for there to be an end and Wooyoung keeps running, weaving through the falling branches, trying to find an end- _

Wooyoung! 

He starts awake and doesn’t register anything for a moment. Then he sees San’s alarmed face, his comically wide eyes and jolts. When he does, his senses come back to him and he can hear San’s shrill voice clearly, yelling out his name. San touches his face gently and his hand comes away wet. Wooyoung sits up and realises his face and clothes are soaked with his tears, temples pounding in pain. 

“Hey, here, it’s okay, you’re okay.” San’s wrapped around him and Wooyoung takes in his scent in mouthfuls, till his head doesn’t feel like it's swimming. “A nightmare? It’s okay, no stranger to nightmares, I’m here.” Wooyoung shakes his head because no, it hadn’t felt like a nightmare. It had felt warm and like home, but there was something wrong. Something that made him _ sad. _

“No, no, not a nightmare. It was good- really good. I just felt- _ alone. _ I was searching for something, something was wrong, and I don’t know if it was with me or with-” _ The tree. _San hums, chest vibrating where Wooyoung’s head lies on it, and tightens his arms around Wooyoung. 

They sit there for a long time. Or at least until Wooyoung feels like himself again and pushes San away gently, face burning when he thinks of how he had practically been sitting in San’s lap. San just yawns and runs a hand down Wooyoung’s arm in comfort, getting ready for the day. San will be spending the day with Seonghwa, getting used to the pack’s laws and regulations, learning his duties as an alpha. Wooyoung should be getting ready too, his duties as a disciple cannot be shirked now that he’s a mated omega but he doesn’t want to. He lays across the furs, dozing in and out of sleep, barely registering when San bids him goodbye with a soft kiss to his forehead. 

When he wakes again, it’s to his mother’s stern face staring down at him. Wooyoung yelps and brings the furs up to cover his body. His mother scoffs. 

“Oh please, you’re fully dressed Wooyoung, don’t be silly. Your _ alpha _ asked me to come check on you,” she says teasingly and Wooyoung whines. 

“Ma, _ please. _”

“Shush, you’re a grown omega now. Come, I have something for you.” 

He cleans up and gets dressed quickly, following his mother out as they walk towards her hut. She lives near all the other elderly wolves, a small line of huts close to the center, right next to where the pups have claimed territory as their playground, running around and bothering the elders. The village is quiet, far more peaceful than yesterday, most wolves from the other packs having left to return home. 

His mother walks into her hut, asking him to wait outside, and brings out the bow that San had gifted him. There’s a quiver hanging on her shoulder, thick, feather-peaked arrows sticking out of it. 

“Here. I’ve activated the sigils on it, your alpha mother drew many for protection, a good hunt and more. You should try it out, I know you haven’t had an opportunity to practise since we’ve been here but if you remember anything she taught you, try it. The arrows are a gift from me,” she smiles at him and Wooyoung melts, rushing at her to give her a big hug. 

“Goddess, you and your need to hug everyone all the time, where do you get that from?” Wooyoung grins down at her and stares pointedly until she rolls her eyes. “Now go, shoo. Don’t bother your ageing mother.” 

Wooyoung slips away, only after giving her another hug, and carries the bow and quiver tenderly, irrationally scared that he’ll damage it. He imagines his alpha mother laughing at him, telling him she’s insulted that he’d think so little of her work. He can’t completely remember her face but her voice is still so familiar, the way she used to jest. 

He walks into the forests, not too deep that he reaches the hunting grounds, but to the patch of the forest the pack uses to train young pups and budding wolves the right way to hunt and use weaponry if they must. He chooses a broad tree and etches a little mark onto it with a sharp rock. He ‘ll use it as a makeshift target as he figures out how to use the bow again. 

It takes him a while, struggling with nocking the arrows, not used to the amount of strength needed to string the bow, pull back and release. After a few embarrassing moments, arrows flying out in odd directions, Wooyoung growls, lets a little bit of his wolf bleed into his skin and uses the strength to finally aim right and hit the right tree. It’s still far off from the mark he made, but at least it’s on the tree and not on the ground. 

He retrieves the arrow and aims again and again, letting his body flow with the ceaseless motion. It’s calming and he feels focused in a way he hasn’t in the last day or so. He still hasn’t managed to hit the mark though and frustration begins to build in him the tiniest bit. He stands a little straighter, putting more force into his motions. When the arrow pierces the ground at the foot of the tree, he shrieks. 

Mumbling to himself as he picks the arrow up, he almost doesn’t hear the rustling. The bushes some distance away move again and Wooyoung crouches instinctively. He nocks an arrow and waits. The leaves part and a wolf leaps out, startling Wooyoung so hard he almost releases the arrow. The wolf bounds up to Wooyoung happily and starts licking his face. Wooyoung lets him because the wolf smells annoyingly familiar. 

“San, you idiot, I could have hurt you!” San cowers a little, whining and then leaps away again, disappearing into the treeline. When he comes back, he’s shifted, wearing thin trousers, and no shirt. Foolishly, Wooyoung keeps his eyes averted, all the while yelling at himself to not be silly, that’s his _ mate. _

“I’m sorry, pup, I knew you were here and wanted to see you!” San looks so hopeful, face lit up, smile wide and Wooyoung sighs, trying not to grin back at San. “We were scouting and then I could smell you so I slipped away for a bit.”

“Seonghwa’s going to know you’ve gone, you know?”

“Oh, I know, but it’s not Seonghwa I’m scared of, it’s Hongjoong. And Hongjoong wasn’t with us today, so I’m fine.” He’s still smiling cheekily, leaning against the tree Wooyoung’s been piercing holes into for the past few hours, arms crossed as he regards Wooyoung. 

“Would you like me to help you? I was taught archery when I was younger.” 

Wooyoung wants to say no, a little stubborn and prideful. But he does need help so he nods and then immediately regrets it because San’s chest is bare and San is coming up behind him to steady his arms, and he’s pressed right against Wooyoung’s back-

“You just need to correct your stance a little. Spread your legs wider, back straight.” Wooyoung is so so thankful to the Goddess that San can’t see how red his face is. But he listens, trying to ignore the way San is holding onto his arms, and corrects his stance. 

“Good. When you’re ready, release. I’m right here, don’t fret.” Wooyoung waits a breath, tries to calm his body down until his head isn’t buzzing anymore and releases with a whoosh. It hits the mark dead-on. 

“Goddess, yes!” He jumps up and down and clings to San’s neck who just laughs and pats him on the back. “You have a talent for this Wooyoung, you should keep it up. Would you like to go again?” Wooyoung nods vigorously and places San’s hands on his arms immediately starting another laugh out of San. San mumbles reassurances into his ear and Wooyoung softens and relaxes, about to release the arrow again when more wolves come bounding in, bundled up clothes hanging from their mouths. 

Wooyoung jerks, releases the arrow in their direction accidentally but San moves fast and catches it before it even leaves the string of the bow. The wolves cower and yip, shifting immediately. 

“Wooyoung, are you purposely trying to kill us?” Yeosang’s snarky voice echoes in the air as the omega shifts back, leisurely slipping on his clothes as if he doesn’t care who sees him naked. The others change too, Seonghwa glaring at San pointedly, who finds every reason to not look in the direction of their Pack Alpha. 

“Aww it’s okay, let’s not interrupt the mates, the way San reeks right now,” Mingi snickers, wrapping a hand around Yeosang’s shoulders and walking past them exaggeratedly. San bristles beside him and Wooyoung wonders what Mingi means because he can’t smell anything but the heavy woodsy smell that San normally gives off. It’s perhaps a little stronger than usual but that’s only because San isn’t wearing a lot of clothes. 

Wooyoung watches one of the wolves shift to reveal Jongho and then Yunho sits up from the ground as well and Wooyoung gasps in surprise. He had thought most of the wolves would return to their pack after the ceremony. Jongho barely pays any attention to them, eyes fixed on Mingi and Yeosang, hurriedly putting on his clothes and running after them. 

Yunho stops as he walks past and stares intently at San. He nods once, purposeful, eyes dark and grave with something that looks a lot like fear and walks away, following the rest. Seonghwa watches the interaction and sighs. 

“San, come meet me later, there is a _ lot _ to discuss.” Even _he_ sounds tired, not from physical exertion but as if they encountered something so mentally draining they don’t have the energy to even speak. San is stiff beside Wooyoung, looking after them with hard eyes. Wooyoung touches his arm carefully and San whips around to smile at Wooyoung. As if Wooyoung can’t see the way his eyes don’t crinkle up like they usually do. 

“Is something wrong?” San just shakes his head and clasps Wooyoung’s hand in his, reaching over to press his nose into Wooyoung’s cheek and rub lightly. Wooyoung is sufficiently distracted and just mumbles when San says he’s going to head back to the village. 

* * *

  
  
  


Two full moon cycles pass and Wooyoung is sure something is wrong. The feeling stems first from the fact that he hasn’t had his heat yet, waiting every day for some kind of sign, startling every time his body aches randomly. San doesn’t seem concerned, just holds Wooyoung tighter on the nights he worries. 

The pack has definitely taken notice of the fact that their necks remain unmarked, it’s impossible not to when so much time has passed. San has been so patient, only touching Wooyoung when he allows it, never going any further than leaving soft kisses on his lips, rubbing at his thighs when Wooyoung gets a little worked up. At this point, he’s more than ready for San to mate with him _ properly _but something stubborn, something a little foolish in him perhaps, wants to wait till his heat for their first time, wants to experience that with San. 

The more days that pass with no sign of his heat, the more Wooyoung feels like a failure of an omega. He doesn’t voice this to San, knows San would look at him with wide, sad eyes, say that he thinks Wooyoung is perfect but Wooyoung doesn’t want to hear it. He’d been worried about this from the beginning, about not being good enough for his mate, for San. 

And the feeling of something not being right also stems from the way San and the rest of his friends behave. At first, Wooyoung hadn’t noticed anything, too preoccupied with getting his body to work the way it should but it becomes impossible to ignore. Yunho, Jongho and a few other agile, able-bodied wolves from the other packs stay, Seonghwa giving the excuse that they are young wolves looking to train, learn more about the territory of this pack, the different kinds of flora and fauna. Wooyoung knows it to be a lie. Especially when they keep getting visitations from foreign wolves who stay for a few hours, holed up in Seonghwa’s den and leave. As if they’re merely passing messages. 

Wooyoung’s tried talking to San about it but San pretends not to know a thing. Hongjoong, Yeosang, even Seonghwa who’s usually weak to Wooyoung’s wheedling, remain mum. San leaves on hunts with the rest often and comes back late, bothered and upset about something but refuses to talk to Wooyoung about it. As time passes, Wooyoung grows more and more upset, at first angry that the people he loves are keeping things from him and then sad and paranoid. 

It seems like something big is happening, Seonghwa’s negotiating with so many packs about it, entreating the help of so many wolves, and Wooyoung remains helpless. What scares Wooyoung the most is that he hasn’t been able to connect with the Earth for days, like there’s some kind of block in his magic. It terrifies Wooyoung so much he loses his breath every time he tries to feel anything, panicking and trying in vain to feel the forest and its pulsing energy. 

He feels like he’s spiralling, losing control and everything comes to a head one night when San comes back to their home late, tired but exhilarated for the first time in a while. Wooyoung’s still wide awake, watching San get undressed, a small smile on his face that becomes bigger every time he looks at Wooyoung. Something in Wooyoung brightens as well, to see San like this, and he lets his eyes wander as San shucks off his pants, looking at the wide of his back as the muscles shift every time he moves. 

When San slips in beside him, Wooyoung sticks to him, snuggling so close, San’s breathing in his hair. But San doesn’t seem to mind, just massages Wooyoung’s back gently, humming just a little. And Wooyoung wants more, wants his hands to slide below, touch him where he really wants it. He reaches up to drop a kiss onto San’s lips and waits cautiously to see if San will reciprocate. When San leans into him, a smile spread wide against his lips, Wooyoung sags, and kisses him harder, a little more sloppy than they’ve ever kissed before, tonguing into San’s mouth who jerks in surprise but doesn’t pull away. 

Wooyoung gets more excited, licking into San’s mouth eagerly, clambering up to sit on his lap, revelling in the way the alpha grips his hips hard. Wooyoung begins grinding down into the hardness under his crotch, moaning softly at the sensation, reaching down to bite teasingly at San’s neck. Then, he realises San’s frozen. He lifts his head up to find San staring at him curiously. 

“What’s wrong?” San just grasps his waist tenderly and lifts Wooyoung off him, before running a hand through his hair. 

“Pup, we don’t have to do this right now, I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I know how much you’ve been struggling with your heat and I noticed you haven’t visited the- the uh lotus spring in a while and I just-”

“So, what? Do you not want me, is that it? Am I not good enough for you, alpha?”

San gapes at him. There are angry tears running down Wooyoung’s face and he swipes at them in frustration, upset that he’s crying like this in front of San, like a baby. He gets up and grabs a washcloth to wipe at his face but the tears seem endless. Wooyoung isn’t even sure where they’re coming from. He feels a little numb, drained, as if all energy is being sapped out of him and distantly registers San sitting in front of him, a hesitant hand on his knee. He looks up to see the alpha crying softly as well, eyes wide and red, face scrunched up. 

“Wooyoung, pup, I’m so sorry, of course I want you, I love you so much, more than anything. Why would you- I will never think of you like that, _ I’m _the one not good enough.” 

Wooyoung’s chest hurts. “Then why, why won’t you tell me what’s happening, what are you and Seonghwa and the others doing? Am I not good enough to know about that? If something’s wrong, I can help-”

“My love, out of all of us you are perhaps the most capable, you’re so much more than enough.”

“Then, why won’t you tell me? I feel lost, San, like I’m losing everything.” San makes a small, wounded noise and pulls Wooyoung into a hug. 

“I- something’s happening, yes. We aren’t exactly sure what yet and that’s what we’ve been scouting for the past two months. Two months ago, I picked up a scent and asked the others to follow it. Yunho found a strange trail, not made by any animal we recognise. When they followed it, they found corpses, _ mortal _corpses. We have no idea how they entered the forest, how they were so close to the pack’s territory.”

Wooyoung’s breath lodges in his throat. “But- how? Is that why there are so many clan wolves here? Are there mortals near our borders?”

San shakes his head. “We haven’t found anything yet, but yes the other clans are offering their protection and we’ve been scouring the forest, searching for more. We didn’t find a single thing, but today we found another trail. It led to a dead-end but it was fresh. Somehow, mortals have figured their way out here and are masking themselves. But now that we know this, we’ll find them, I’m sure. I won’t let anything happen to you or anyone else,” he promises, voice harsh. 

“But why the secrecy? Most of the pack doesn’t know? And why keep it from me?”

“Because Seonghwa doesn’t want everyone to worry until there actually is an immediate threat. Most of this pack is made of elderly wolves, or wolves that have barely presented. They’re innocent and untrained, their panic will only make things worse.”

Then San looks intently at him before he speaks. 

“As for you, I promise you it was not because you couldn’t have helped, you could do so much more than us, your magic is incredible, Wooyoung. But I-_ Goddess. _The day after our betrothal, the Seer asked to speak with me. She said- you were going to suffer a lot in the near future, your magic will become more powerful and you’ll- you’ll lose a little bit of yourself every time. And I could see it Wooyoung, the way you blacked out, eyes clear and milky, the way it took you hours to come back. The week after our betrothal when you didn’t get up for a whole day after meditating. Your mother said you were, you didn’t recognise her at all when you woke at first and I-”

San’s breathing hard, fresh tears falling from his eyes. “I cannot lose you Wooyoung and I don’t want to watch you like that, as if I’m losing you right in front of my eyes. I cannot lose you, _ please. _” 

San’s weightless against him, face buried in Wooyoung’s neck. Wooyoung burns, but the ever-present ache in his chest has eased, the fog in his head dissipated the slightest bit. 

“San. I haven’t been able to practise magic for almost a month now. It’s been weeks. I haven’t- I can’t even feel it, like I have no magic in me at all. It feels like a large part of me has already died. That has hurt me more than practising it ever did.” San lifts his head and stares at Wooyoung in shock. 

“What? You-you never told me, pup, I’m so sorry.”

“I haven’t told you so much,” Wooyoung’s voice breaks and he doesn’t stop the tears this time. “I’ve been so alone San, I just-I need you. I need you to speak to me, to be there for me. And I want to do the same for you.”

“Goddess, always, I promise, I don’t want to feel like this ever again.” 

They stay awake for hours, till the sun rises, soft light streaming in through the window. They speak about everything, San tells him about Hongjoong’s theory that the mortals are perhaps practising some form of magic or have someone who is able to practise it, casting glamours on themselves so they remain undetected. Wooyoung tells him about how he feels every time Bhūmi remains silent, how he hasn’t even been able to conjure up plants and glamours. He feels barren, in more ways than one. 

“I’m- I know I’m not much help in terms of hunting and scouting, I chose to follow in my mother’s footsteps and practise magic while Yeosang chose to train but I- I want to know what happens, I want to help everyone figure this out. I want to help. And if my magic comes back, I want to use that too. I know your worries, I understand how you feel, but that’s not your decision to make.” 

San presses a kiss to Wooyoung’s hair and hums. “Okay. Wooyoungie, I love you so much.” 

Wooyoung smiles wide and lets the gentle press of his lips on San’s chest answer him. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me on twitter at [fightmehyuk](https://twitter.com/fightmehyuk)
> 
> Hopefully, I've linked that properly lmaoo
> 
> pls do leave kudos/comments if you liked it and thank you for reading!!


	4. take my breath away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo!!! i am back and im sorry for the long wait!!
> 
> warnings for this one: a lot of smut, some minor bloodplay (biting lol) and that's about it lol.
> 
> i've updated some of the tags, just to add background relationships etc as well. Also, this is going to be more than 5 chapters lmaoo, i'm estimating around 6 or 7 rn? we shall see. 
> 
> hope you guys like this one!!

Hongjoong takes one look at him and crumples, rushing to him and sticking his nose in Wooyoung’s neck, scenting him furiously. 

“Wooyoungie, we-we were so scared, we wanted to keep you safe, and then San told us about your magic, I’m _ so sorry,” _he mumbles, whining and Wooyoung sags, lets himself be coddled, enjoying the attention after so long without it. 

They’re gathered in Seonghwa’s den, excluding Jongho and Yunho who’d returned to their own momentarily; San had woken up the morning after Wooyoung confronted him and immediately demanded a meeting, urging everyone to come clean to Wooyoung, to keep him in the loop. Wooyoung catches everyone staring at him over Hongjoong’s shoulder and averts his eyes. He doesn’t really like the despondent look of pity on their faces. 

Hongjoong lets him go and Mingi takes his place, sitting down on a chair and dragging Wooyoung onto his lap, mewling into his hair like a pup. Wooyoung yelps in surprise, blushing at the blatant way Mingi scents him but he doesn’t really mind. The alpha has always been incredibly child-like with his affections and this isn’t the first time he’s scented someone so audaciously. San makes an odd, aborted sound and takes a seat opposite them, eyeing Mingi in warning, who doesn’t seem to notice. Everyone takes their places around them, slow and hesitant like Wooyoung might get spooked. 

“I can’t even begin to apologise Wooyoung, if we had known- it’s my fault, as the Pack Alpha I should have made the right decisions-”

“No, don’t be silly, I’m closest to him, as his friend I shouldn’t have gone ahead with this-

“That’s-”

“Quiet! All of you!” Wooyoung’s voice rings shrilly around the room. He’d been afraid of this, of placing so much guilt on everyone, of being treated like he was made of glass. At first, he’d been angry, furious that no one seemed to think there was more to him than just his magic, that he couldn’t have been of value without his abilities. He’d met his mother this morning, screamed at her for allowing them to keep him away, yelled out all his frustrations and sadness and anger until he’d taken one look at her face, the fear and sorrow in her trembling eyes and had broken down. He understood why they’d done it, misplaced as it is, he knows that he would have done exactly the same, done anything to keep someone he loves safe. 

Now, he just feels an overwhelming sense of determination. He’s spent his whole life depending on his status as an omega, on the magic that ran through his body. He wants to know who he is underneath everything. 

He looks around the room and takes a deep breath.

“I hold no resentment. I don’t blame any of you for doing what you did. I would have done the same. I just want to know that all of you are safe as well if we’re in any danger. I would do anything to make sure what happened to my old pack doesn’t happen here.” 

Seonghwa makes a small, heavy noise and reaches out to brush the back of his palm against Wooyoung’s cheek in comfort. Slowly, the tension eases out of the room, and Wooyoung visibly watches everyone relax just a little, the guilt in their scents layered with a tinge of relief, happiness, and the sense of pack and home. 

“Let’s get right to it then.” Hongjoong clasps his hands, raising an eyebrow. 

They spend hours catching Wooyoung up on everything, until the sun sets and Seonghwa lights up candles in the room. They tell him of the first sighting, the corpses found and the tattered clothes left behind. They’d tried to follow the scent, memorised it so if they encountered it again, they’d know exactly what it was but for some time, they didn’t come across anything else. Still, Seonghwa had sent a message to all the tribes of the forest, a message to be vigilant and safe and to work together to keep their packs safe. The tribe heads held a meeting and decided not to alert the rest of their packs yet, not until a real danger emerged. For the past month, they’ve worked together in secret, tracking any strange scent they come across, combing through their territories for a glimpse of anything out of the ordinary. 

And the night before, they’d finally found another trail. Another corpse, a fully grown mortal, right outside the territory markers of the Eastern tribes, mauled to death by a wild animal. The scent trail had led to a dead-end again, as if the mortal had simply appeared out of nowhere and been attacked. Yunho had picked up the faint, almost non-existent scent of magic. 

“We now know there are more of them, maybe a lot more, and they’re using magic, glamours, something, to keep themselves hidden. But we still don’t know why they’re in the forest,” San says, musing. 

“Of course we do. It’s to attack us. Why else would mortals be here?” 

San looks at Mingi consideringly and hums.

“But we haven’t seen any trace of the weapons they use. The ones that let off the small, hard pellets. We haven’t even found the pellets anywhere, I remember those things were all over the ground when they attacked our pack. When we didn’t have to remove them from under our skin,” he says with a bite to his voice. 

Mingi starts arguing, Yeosang backing him up and Wooyoung tunes everyone out for a moment. He thinks of what they’d said, of how they’d only found corpses, of the lack of weaponry, of the strange ad-hoc places they’d found the bodies in. The pattern makes no sense. As if there is no pattern, no purpose at all. 

“San’s right, what if- what if they aren’t here for us at all? They appear to have no weapons, are wearing odd clothes and clearly have no idea how to navigate the forest or survive its dangers. I would assume if their goal was to scout and search for wolf packs in the forest they’d come much more prepared. Especially since they’ve avoided the forests for so long, clearly they’re aware of the dangers here. I’m not sure why else they’d be here, but what if they’re not a threat?”

It feels instinctually wrong to say it. The second the words leave his mouth, Wooyoung thinks of what he went through, of the pain of leaving his home, of all the death he’s seen and he flinches violently. He expects everyone to yell at him for making such a baseless assumption but the room remains silent. He glances around and finds them looking pensive. As if they’re actually considering what Wooyoung had said. 

Hongjoong clicks his tongue and turns to Seonghwa, a bemused frown on his face. 

“Has there really been no record of a mortal stepping foot in the forests? Ever?” 

Seonghwa shakes his head and says,“No, none that I can remember. We tell stories of everything, everything that’s ever happened, pass it down to the pups. I grew up thinking that mortals were mere stories, creatures similar to us. We’ve never ventured out of the forests to see. Until Wooyoung’s pack came to us, I had no idea what was happening. I don’t know if the other tribes are the same as ours.” 

Wooyoung baulks a little at that. He hadn’t known this at all. He remembers meeting Seonghwa for the first time, barely a summer older than him, son of the Pack Alpha, already so mature and calm. He’d been the one to comfort Wooyoung, a tall, gangly alpha with baby fat on his cheeks and fire in his eyes. He’d been the one to promise that he’d keep Wooyoung safe, would keep the whole pack safe. 

He watches Hongjoong place a hand on Seonghwa’s arm, watches the way Seonghwa seems to melt into the touch and wonders just how much of a burden their Pack Alpha is carrying. 

“Have you spoken to the Seer? Is there anything she might know?”

“We have, and we also consulted the shaman tribes up north. They’ve all seen visions of mortals, seen them in bits and snatches, in different places in the forest. But none of them can tell us where they came from and why they’re here. The Seer, well, the Seer has lived with us since before I was born. Before my father was born as well and if she has no clue, I’m not sure who will.” 

Hongjoong chews at the side of his lip absently. 

“Although you raise a good question Wooyoung, I think we shouldn’t let ourselves get complacent. No matter what reason the mortals are here for, we should still prepare for the worst. We must protect the pack, and do our best to figure out what exactly the mortals are up to.”

A chorus of agreement fills the room. They sit in silence for a moment, stewing in frustration at the lack of knowledge, the uncertainty. Outside, the symphony of crickets fills the silence within, the quietness of the village, everyone retiring for the night, sleeping peacefully. Wooyoung jolts when he remembers. 

He looks between Hongjoong and Seonghwa intently. “I think you should let the pack know.” 

Immediately, he can see the hesitance on Seonghwa’s face, the disapproval on Yeosang’s and he holds up a hand before they can reply. 

“I can understand that you don’t want to create panic needlessly, but they deserve to know. What if the mortals truly are dangerous and attack us without any preamble? What if some of the pups wander around outside, beyond the territory and are hurt? Anything can happen and we must let them know, ask them to stay safe. We could even use their help, some of the young ones are already training, the mated pairs with no pups yet will help us. We need to work together on this, _ all _of us.” 

Seonghwa purses his lips, clearly still hesitant. Hongjoong sighs deeply and leans into Seonghwa’s side. Seonghwa stares at Wooyoung and nods slowly. 

“I’ll call for a pack meeting tomorrow. Perhaps, it would help to be prepared for whatever is thrown at us. I don’t-I don’t want anyone hurt, I don’t want to feel helpless and I don’t want anyone from my pack to be affected by those vile creatures,” he promises, voice hoarse. He looks at each of them in turn, eyes burning. “I promised I would not let this happen again, and I will do everything to keep my promise.” 

Hongjoong tightens his hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder and grins, wild and brilliant. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


It’s at the pack dinner the next night that Seonghwa announces it, the Seer by his side, speaking of everything, all that’s been found so far, and what might come out of it. The Seer speaks of the nature of her visions, random and baseless, no real purpose to them and urges them to remain vigilant. Never before has she been unable to see the future clearly. 

Wooyoung expects the pack members to gasp, cry out in anger or panic. But they listen, in sordid silence, they listen to Seonghwa, to the Seer, to the harrowing words of Wooyoung’s mother who recounts her story so as to convey the enormity, the danger of the situation. And after, there’s more silence, stillness around the fire they sit around, delicious meat left untouched. When Wooyoung looks around, he doesn’t see what he’d expected at all. He sees determined, angry faces, strength in the wide eyes of those who’ve already survived through something like this before and resolve in the ones who haven’t. Even the little pups sit with their legs crossed and stare at Seonghwa in awe, run up to his mother and hang on to her legs when she begins to cry a little. 

“We’re doing all we can right now. But we need your help. We must work together. We’ve been protected by the forest, by the Goddess for so long. But we cannot underestimate them, we must not let them have the advantage.”

For some reason, Wooyoung feels no fear, no worries about what happened in the past. Sitting here, surrounded by his pack, holding onto San’s fingers, he feels like he’s finally made his peace with it. He’s more than ready to face it again. 

The next few weeks are a blur. 

For the first time, Wooyoung witnesses the strength of _all _the tribes interacting like this, a strange, inspiring sense of unity in the air. Hunters from the Panther tribe distribute enchanted bows and spears to the other tribes, scouts, scavengers, wolves eager to help, scouring the forest for any trace of mortals, anything to suggest that something’s out of place. Magic users, disciples, band together to strengthen the glamours and protective barriers around their territory, trying to scry and follow lifelines echoing under the forest soil, magical markers left on trees. 

It feels an awful lot like they’re preparing for battle. Yet, despite everything, Wooyoung knows they’d never be able to look through the whole expanse of the forest, the territory too vast, unexplored by wolves even, let alone mortals. 

Still, he helps, finds his place in organising things, directing groups of hunters and scouts, and asks the wolves to describe the forest to him, describe the new areas they encounter and takes note of the smallest things they find, keeps a record of the lay of the land, the places they’ve already looked through. It feels good to be useful but every time Wooyoung watches San disappearing into the vastness of the forest, Yeosang brandishing a spear easily, training with other warriors, he feels irrationally out of place. 

He knows that he has a purpose, knows that he’s helping. Yet, when Jongho comes up to him one day and praises him for his work, Wooyoung still feels shocked. 

Jongho seems bemused at Wooyoung’s lacklustre response. They’re gathered together, an ensemble of wolves he recognises and those with unfamiliar tattoos on their bodies, sharing a meal as has become the norm the past few weeks. Albeit the circumstances, Wooyoung has enjoyed the joyous meals, shared in the company of so many others; he’s always liked being surrounded by others, and watching so many wolves interact with each other, watching his pack, his new friends laugh and eat together, it settles something deep within him. 

“Well, of course, Wooyoung, without you, we would be quite lost,” he hears Jongho say. He frowns and opens his mouth to protest when Mingi interrupts them.

“Yes! We would have absolutely no idea where to go. I didn’t even know the forest was this big, and every damn tree looks the same, I don’t know how you remember it all Wooyoung,” he exclaims, knocking back a hearty glass of fruit wine Jongho’s father had provided them with. 

Wooyoung must make another confused face because they look at him with an exasperated expression. 

“Wooyoung, because you keep directing us to different places in the forest, we’re able to cover much more ground. You seem to remember all the places we’ve been, even the ones we haven’t. But I don’t know how you could have known it down to the exact markings on the trees, and the nests of birds in some bush we wouldn’t have even noticed.” 

And Wooyoung freezes. An icy chill goes down his back. Is his magic back? He quickly tries to test it, closing his eyes and concentrating. But when he feels nothing between his fingers and the soil, he deflates. How in the goddess’ name could he know the forest so well then? Perhaps, he remembers it from all the times he meditated, and saw the forest through his mind’s eye, all the times he’s explored it with his magic, tendrils of energy reaching out far and wide. Yet, when he thinks about it, he has the strangest sensation that he’s always known, recognises every inch of the ground, every singular tree. Something touches him on the arm and he jolts, breaking out of his thoughts. Jongho looks at him with wide eyes. 

“Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, of course not. I just, didn’t realise I was doing that.” Wooyoung shakes his head vigorously. 

Jongho relaxes at that and takes another bite of the toasted bread in his hand. He gives Wooyoung a cheery, gummy smile. 

“Just wanted to say thank you, really. Both you and San, you two have a talent. Him with his nose, and his scarily accurate instincts. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with reflexes that quick. And you with your magic and knowledge. You two suit each other very well,” he says, not really looking at Wooyoung. Wooyoung follows his gaze and finds it settled on Yeosang on the other side, leaning into Seonghwa’s side with ease, speaking to Hongjoong about something softly. Yeosang yawns in a childish way, the way he does when he’s comfortable and sleepy, and nuzzles at Seonghwa’s neck. Wooyoung tries not to snort at the way the bread crackles in Jongho’s grip. 

And because he can never resist, he leans closer and whispers, “You know, Yeosang’s going to get his heat really soon. We expected him to reach maturity only a couple of months after me. And he told me he’s been feeling particularly tired lately.”

He delights in the way Jongho’s entire body goes still. “Of course he’s tired, he’s been training so much, I was worried,” he murmurs. And then he seems to register everything Wooyoung had said and chokes violently. Face red and eyes watering, he turns to Wooyoung who cackles loudly. 

“Wait, but, betrothal?” He whispers at Wooyoung between coughing. 

Wooyoung shrugs nonchalantly. “I don’t think Yeosang will have one, he’s always been vocal about how much he doesn’t want to bother with a big ceremony like that and no one’s going to force him to have one. Besides, we’re far too busy for something like that. And anyway, I think he has someone in mind already.” Wooyoung expects Jongho to blush, react violently again. But he watches in horror as Jongho deflates, staring at Yeosang with drooping eyes, mumbling a small, piteous, “He does?” Wooyoung gapes, regretting having said anything because _ goddess _, he hadn’t known Jongho was this dense. Mingi looks up, mouth stuffed full of food, having heard the conversation between them, and rolls his eyes at Wooyoung. Wooyoung’s about to say something, reaching out to pat Jongho’s hair in consolation when a familiar scent appears. 

“Wooyoungie, come take a walk with me?” San stands there with his hand outstretched and Wooyoung takes it immediately, jumping up and shoving at San who giggles, winding an arm around his waist naturally. He doesn’t want to have any more potentially damaging conversations with his best friend’s beta of interest. 

San leans in close and kisses the top of Wooyoung’s ear quickly. “And what exactly did you say to Jongho to make him blush like that? And then immediately look like a sad pup.” Wooyoung shivers a little at the sensation of San’s voice so close, the tickling of his breath. He ignores the rising heat in his stomach; there’s been a strange tension between them recently. He’s not sure what it is, but since the conversation they’d had weeks ago, Wooyoung feels so much closer to him, like something had finally clicked in place. They haven’t had a chance to spend more than snatches of time together, busy with their duties but Wooyoung’s found himself stealing glances of San whenever he can, is aware of the way San has begun to _ touch _him so much more, little kisses, possessive hands on his skin. It feels like there’s something taut between them, crackling with intensity. 

He dips his head into the crook of San’s neck and takes a deep breath. San smells more and more of the forest every day, with how much he wanders around it, and Wooyoung revels in it, likes how it enhances his hearth-like scent. There’s still a strange thrill being so openly affectionate with San, an odd, welcome feeling of knowing the alpha is _ his. _He sighs and pulls away to look San in the eyes. 

“I may or not have told him that Yeosang’s going to be in heat soon and he already has someone in mind for it,” he giggles, laughing harder at the shocked look on San’s face. 

“Wooyoung! No wonder he looked so troubled, poor thing. Do you think Yeosang will choose him? For certain?”

Wooyoung hums in an assertion. “Absolutely. Yeosang is very single-minded when he sets his sights on something. And he may also have whined to me about how much he wants Jongho to hold him down with his big arms and f-”

“_ Alright, goddess! _I forget how much of a filthy mouth you have, pup.” San tightens his hold around Wooyoung’s waist and presses a small kiss onto his cheekbone. Wooyoung wants to say something, to protest, but his mind’s still fixated on the way San had said it, the depth in his voice. 

They’ve walked a long way, all the way towards the blessed spring and beyond, following the stream that it flows out of. It’s nearing night, the blue sky darkening slowly, and Wooyoung sweats a little in the tunic he’s wearing, the evenings no longer as cold as they used to be. It’s the middle of the spring season, his favourite time of year, when papaya trees bear plenty of ripe fruit and when the forest seems most alive with the melodic call of mating birds. He’d always liked the overwhelmingly heady feeling of joy spring brings, the season of fruition, of mating and-

His elation comes to a screeching halt. He can’t believe he’d forgotten that spring is also heat season for many omegas. 

There still hasn’t been any sign of his heat. At some point, Wooyoung had stopped thinking about it, too occupied with everything going on, but now, with the knowledge of Yeosang’s impending heat, and the heat season, he can feel the familiar pit dropping to his stomach again. A few weeks ago he’d spoken to his mother about it, even to the Seer. None of them gave him a straight answer, only vague reassurances that it was alright, it’s normal, he’s still fertile. They’d said to wait, to wait and see, it would happen without a doubt. Wooyoung hates that he feels worthless like this, can’t shake off the feeling of failure. 

San must sense the change in his scent because he stops, and moves Wooyoung gently, gesturing at him to sit on the mossy banks of the stream. Wooyoung goes easily, staring at the rapid trickling of the water, the quick flashes of fish underneath and plays with San’s fingers absently. He almost doesn’t notice when San reaches a hand up to his hair, jerks a little at the prickly sensation of fingers on his scalp and then melts, enjoying the way San massages him slowly, lets his whole body relax and forget. San shifts their position a bit, drags Wooyoung a little further back until they’re leaning against the trunk of a tree, Wooyoung resting his back against San’s chest. 

For a few moments, San says nothing and Wooyoung sags against him, delighting in the lazy tingles going down his back every time San rubs at his scalp gently. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” San’s voice is gentle, unassuming and so so kind. Wooyoung doesn’t really know what to say. The pit in his stomach turns this way and that as he thinks. 

And what comes out in a burst is-

“Do you think I’m broken?” San sucks a breath in and Wooyoung’s brain sprints, words coming out unbidden. 

“I-I can’t help but feel as if I’m disappointing you and more, myself. I’m supposed to flourish, be healthy and good to you but I’m just- broken. I haven’t had my heat and my magic still hasn’t come back and I hate, _ hate _that I’ve spent all my life basing my worth on those things but I have, and I don’t know how to feel like I’m not good enough for you-”

“Hey, hey, Wooyoung, listen, _ listen to me. _” San’s scent comes out in waves, enveloping Wooyoung like a warm embrace.

_ “ _ I know whatever I say might not help change your mind much but I just want to say one thing. I have never and will _ never _consider you broken or not good enough for me. Wooyoung, you- I barely have the words to tell you how remarkable you are. How overjoyed you make me, every day, every moment. You’re the most important part of my life, and I didn’t mate you for your heat, for your magic, or anything else you feel like you need to give me. I just want you. I’ll always want you, in every one of my lifetimes.”

And something about the way San promises it, the last few words, feel so final, echoing into the forest like an oath. Suddenly, the noises of the forest swell, unbearably loud, like a rising wave. Or maybe it’s just the blood rushing to Wooyoung’s head, gushing in his ears. He whirls around, turning to face San and takes a long look at San’s face. He looks- goddess does he look beautiful. Flushed face, the scars on his skin framed in the light of the moon, his hair long, longer than it had been months ago, hanging under his shoulders, held back at the front by a small braided knot. Wooyoung wants to undo it and mess it up, see San mussed up and panting under him. 

So he lets the urge take over him when it comes and leans in to press his mouth against San’s, feverish. There’s nothing slow or gentle about it, about the way San meets his desperation with his own, takes hold of Wooyoung’s jaw and keeps him in place as he moves his lips, molten and fiery. When San bites into his bottom lip, a sharp pain tingling under the skin, Wooyoung feels lightheaded, automatically scrambles to perch himself on San’s lap, dragging his hands restlessly down his chest. 

It’s fast, more frantic than anything they’ve done before and Wooyoung never wants to stop. Licks into San’s mouth, uncaring of how needy he looks, how shameless, and doesn’t stop touching San wherever he can, running his palms over San’s arms, squeezing them when San’s tongue meets his. He must make some kind of noise, something high-pitched and urgent because San responds in kind, mumbling a distracted, “Goddess, _ Wooyoung, _” before grabbing hold of Wooyoung’s ass and pulling him in impossibly close. 

Wooyoung’s whole body is blazing, a strange, burning heat starting from his head to his toes. When San grips his ass, firm and harsh, Wooyoung feels like he’s going to burn from the inside out. He pulls away, shoving his face into San’s neck, licking and sucking and biting as if he can’t get enough of the sweet taste of San’s skin, the way he mewls into Wooyoung’s hair, arching against the bark of the tree and fumbling his fingers into Wooyoung’s hair. 

It feels natural to let his hands wander, brushing against San’s chest, lifting the thin shirt he’s wearing and scratching his nails lightly against warm, damp skin, delighting in the way San shivers, his muscles constricting under Wooyoung’s touch. Wooyoung takes San’s lips between his own once again and feels like drowning, groaning when San sounds just as wrecked. 

Suddenly, he’s being tipped backwards, staring up at the twinkling moon between the foliage of trees and whining when he feels San’s wet mouth sucking a bruise into his neck, heady and dazed. San murmurs a question and Wooyoung’s already nodding, frantic and desperate, pulling his own tunic off quickly and pulling San’s head down to his chest. San giggles, breathy, and licks a long stripe up between the muscles of his chest, lighting a path up Wooyoung’s body. 

When San takes one of Wooyoung’s nipples into his mouth, Wooyoung feels the heady gush of slick staining his thighs, stomach burning up with an uncontrollable want. Goddess, he wants, he _ needs _San to touch him, to fuck him and own him and mark him-

“Shush, shush, goddess, you and your mouth, pup,” San growls and pulls at his nipple, rolling it between his teeth with a vengeance. Then he pulls off, sitting back on his haunches and Wooyoung can’t look away from him, at the way his chest heaves, the redness high on his cheeks, the glaze in his eyes. He reaches out with a hand, whimpering a little when San takes it in his, nips at the fingers, playful and teasing, and holds Wooyoung’s gaze when he stuffs one finger into his mouth, sucking and licking around it, staring at Wooyoung with a glint in his eye. Wooyoung’s leaking so much slick, he’s sure he’s stained his trousers. 

“San, alpha, please, _ please _.” His head is swimming and he wonders if this is what a heat feels like, if this is what it would feel like when San takes him in heat, out of control and feral. 

“Are you sure? We can wait, my love, it doesn’t matter to me-”

And as much as Wooyoung has toiled over this, has battled with himself about the _ right _way to do this, he decides there is no right or wrong. Not between him and San. He wants to feel this, wants it with San because it’s just them and it’ll always be only the two of them. 

So he wraps a hand around San’s neck, brings him down for a gentle kiss, pouring out all his love and yearning into it. When he pulls away, there’s something in San’s eyes, a similar understanding, and he nuzzles the tip of his nose against San’s.

“I do, I want to do this with you. So, touch me, make me yours.” 

He’s barely said the words before San’s tugging at his clothes, pulling them off and shucking his own shirt above his head. He’s panting so hard, small rivulets of sweat pouring down his chest, over the hard planes of his abdomen. Wooyoung watches the tattoos on his arms, the mottled scars all over his abdomen and feels breathless. He doesn’t realise he’s whining, keening, probably letting off distressed pheromones because San coos at him, and runs his palms down the length of Wooyoung’s body. 

They feel so hot, almost scalding on Wooyoung’s skin, and he decides he’s obsessed with the way San’s calloused hands feel on his soft skin, the way San looks at him like something to worship. San’s touch is light, pressing at the jut of his hips, massaging his flank and Wooyoung feels the burning urgency settle a little, letting his head float somewhere high above, between the leaves above him, between the bright, flashing stars. 

San’s palm brushes against his cock lightly and Wooyoung jumps. Suddenly, he’s aware of just how hard he is, leaking at the head, and he keens, pushing into San’s touch, urging him to touch. San takes the hint and wraps his palm around Wooyoung’s cock and goddess, it feels so fucking _ good _and Wooyoung feels like he’s losing his mind to the way San tugs at his cock, pumping it slowly, other hand reaching up to play with his nipples, flicking at them to make Wooyoung moan in protest. 

“Look at you, goddess, I could watch you like this forever, you’re so beautiful,” San murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips against Wooyoung’s throat. He opens his mouth and lets his teeth scrape against the skin just a little; it hurts a little more than it should and Wooyoung shivers at the knowledge that San’s far gone enough to let his teeth sharpen, give in to the urge to mark Wooyoung in the most untamed way. 

And when San pauses, teeth resting at Wooyoung’s bare throat like a promise before sinking his teeth in just a little, just enough to break the skin, enough to leave a scar that won’t fade for a few days, it’s all Wooyoung needs to let go, spurt all over San’s hand, body trembling violently. 

He’s dazed and dopey, warm under the weight of San’s body but he still wants more, reaches down blindly until he’s got a lazy hand wrapped around San’s cock, letting his fingers explore the knot at the base of his cock with wonder and delight. San makes a harsh, groaning sound, bucking into Wooyoung’s fist and hissing when Wooyoung squeezes around his knot just a little. Fuck, he wants that in him and _ now. _

San chuckles, pulls away Wooyoung’s hand gently and drapes himself over him to press an open-mouthed kiss to his lips, dipping his tongue in, laughing again when Wooyoung just keeps his mouth open, tongue lolling out, whining for more. He sits back and finally, _ finally, _reaches between Wooyoung’s legs to swipe his fingers against his taint and Wooyoung jerks violently, so sensitive, the slightest touch feels like it’s too much. 

San’s relentless though, pins his thighs down with his knees, loops one hand around Wooyoung’s wrist and reaches with the other to circle his rim, dipping his fingers in and opening him up slowly. He’s staring at the place where his fingers continue to send jolts of electricity up Wooyoung’s spine and Wooyoung can feel himself turn bright red at the feeling of being so open and exposed. He makes a small, mewling sound, pouting up at San, flushing when San merely raises an eyebrow at him. 

“This is what you wanted my love, don’t pretend to be shy now. Not when you were so wanton not even a moment ago. Be a good pup and keep your legs open for me.” His voice is low and clipped and Wooyoung shudders in want, gushing around San’s fingers just a little because he’s never heard San be anything other than gentle and careful, and this, he likes this far too much. 

He spreads his legs apart, preening at the pleased rumble San lets out, and lets him push at his thighs until he’s holding them up close to his chest. San takes a moment to massage the backs of Wooyoung’s thighs, squeezing and rubbing, until Wooyoung whines, petulant, wiggling his body wordlessly so San will get a move on. San smiles, wild and bright, the kind that makes his eyes disappear, reaches up to peck Wooyoung sweetly one last time before he takes hold of his cock and slowly, achingly slow, pushes into Wooyoung with a soft groan. 

It’s a tad painful, stretched out so wide, his ass throbs around San’s cock, and Wooyoung shivers at the slight tinge of pain, at the fullness. San doesn’t move, even when his knot’s brushing against Wooyoung’s rim, runs gentle hands along Wooyoung’s waist, his calves. And finally, when it’s comfortable, Wooyoung gets impatient, pushes his hips up and moans loudly at the way San’s cock shifts in him. Goddess, he’s so _ full _, he never wants it to end. He pushes against San again who finally grips onto Wooyoung’s hip hard and rolls his hips steadily, slow and controlled. Wooyoung feels like he’s melting into the ground every time San thrusts into him, and he’s suddenly aware of the soft, cold moss under his fingers, his fingers vibrating with energy where they touch the ground. 

San thrusts faster, quick snaps of his hips that drive Wooyoung up, make him claw at his own thighs, stretch till he’s almost bent in half, moaning out loud, uncaring of anyone who might hear. It strikes him that they’re out in the open, far away from the village but if anyone happened to stumble across them, they would see the filthy way Wooyoung’s spread out under San, the noises, Wooyoung’s shrill wailing, San’s high-pitched groans, the tell-tale squelching when San fucks into him with abandon. He should feel ashamed; being fucked next to a stream, for anyone to see, but something about it makes him feel even more delirious, arching his back and meeting San’s thrusts desperately, tears pooling in his eyes. 

And San must know exactly what he’s thinking, must feel the way Wooyoung clenches around his cock, because he mutters a curse, wraps a hand in Wooyoung’s hair and pulls, pulls his head back to expose his bare neck, sinks his teeth into the same wound he’d made, licking at the blood that pearls up, and Wooyoung sees white, the pain, pleasure, commingled, so overwhelming he feels weightless. When he comes to, it’s to the sensation of San’s knot stretching him unbearably more, little currents of pleasure racking through his body, and he wants to curl up, overwhelmed and sensitive but a larger part of him wants his alpha to come in him, to knot him and breed him and _ keep _him. 

He looks into San’s eyes, reaches up with a weak hand and cradles his jaw, urging San to look at him. And when San does, he’s wide-eyed, a strange, heady expression of awe and want in his gaze. Wooyoung knows he must look like a mess, covered in drool and blood and tears. But here, surrounded by the energy of the forest, the way San looks at him makes him feel _ powerful. _

He barely has to say anything, croons out a little, “Alpha, please, come in me,” before San’s stilling, body taut, coming into Wooyoung with a long, drawn-out groan. He doesn't know how long they remain tied together, he’s only aware of San’s soft hair beneath his fingers, the way he cradles Wooyoung in his arms, resting his face against Wooyoung’s chest. In the quiet, Wooyoung’s aware of the calls of the night, of the everpresent sound of running water and something else, something buzzing and vibrating under his body, and he shifts in discomfort, jolting a whiny San, before he realises what it is. 

He freezes, keeps his body still, so still San looks up at him with a frown, a question on his lips. But Wooyoung ignores him, closes his eyes and lets his body melt, following the strange buzzing, down, deep down until his hands touch something tangible and molten, tethered to the earth and to him and he gasps in delight. 

“San, fuck, I- I can feel the forest! I can feel its essence, something, I’m not sure, but it’s something!” He yells out, rolling them over until San’s back hits the ground with a thud and he can lift himself up on his arms a little. San’s knot pulls at his rim deliciously and it takes him a moment to settle, rolling his hips back and making San squeak before he settles on his lap and beams at him. San’s mouth is slack, blinking up at Wooyoung blankly and Wooyoung feels a little bad for teasing him like that until San seems to come back into himself and realises what Wooyoung had said. 

He lifts himself up on his forearms and grins at Wooyoung. “Really? Goddess, I’m so happy, Wooyoungie,” he gushes. And then a familiar smirk pulls at his mouth. “Maybe we should do this more often if it’s helping you get your magic back.” Wooyoung whacks at his arm, flushing. But then he stops, wondering if it really _ was _the sex. The idea seems almost profane but Wooyoung thinks of what he’s been taught about the Goddess and about how important mating and procreation is to the forest. There might be some truth in San’s words after all, no matter how embarrassing they are. 

He flops onto San’s chest and breathes easily for the first time in a while, delighting in the faint thrum of magic under his skin. It’s not as potent as it used to be but it’s something and it gives him so much hope, especially considering what they’ve all been going through recently. San’s breath is even under him, his fingers light and lazy where they graze Wooyoung’s back. When his knot goes down, slipping out of Wooyoung easily, he almost misses it, likes the feeling of being full like that. But he pushes down the want, and gathers his clothes frantically, pulling them on despite the sticky feeling of come on his skin, suddenly aware of how long they’ve been away from the village, of how everyone’s going to know exactly what they’ve been up to. He knows no one’s going to judge, mating is natural and celebrated within their kind, but it’s still _ embarrassing. _

“Wait, pup, don’t you want to wash off first, you must be all- well, sticky,” San urges, walking up to the stream completely bare. Wooyoung pauses, scratches at the drying come on his stomach and nods, undressing and joining San in the water. But the second his foot touches the stream, his body shivers with a strange, powerful burst of energy. 

San springs up, reaching out to hold him steady and the moment he touches Wooyoung, he goes rigid. 

“What? What is that? How am I-” San’s voice sounds distant, like it’s coming from far away. When Wooyoung looks at him, he gasps at the opaque milky white encompassing San’s eyes. He’s certain San must see the same in his. He takes hold of San’s hand and walks further into the stream, each step sending surges of something, some kind of magic into their bodies. He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, but something makes him stop when the water is up to their knees. Something telling him to wait. 

It seems to appear out of nowhere. At first, there’s nothing but the eerie stillness of the water, at odds with the way it had been restless only moments ago. They wait and watch, staring at the glimmering water, the fluid reflection of the moon. Then they see it, floating slowly, languidly, in front of their eyes. It feels like the entire forest stops in time in its presence. Wooyoung absently notes that he isn’t breathing. But there’s no panic, no burning in his lungs, only an overwhelming sense of calm, a tightness to every limb in his body. 

It’s a swan, a massive, beautiful swan drifting in the water, right across from them. It’s plume is pure white, long neck arched gracefully and held high. It seems to let off a light of its own, brighter than the moon even. Wooyoung doesn’t know how long it takes to drift past them, but it feels like they stand there for a lifetime, staring in awe at the strange creature until suddenly, the world is darker again and Wooyoung’s body collapses, lungs heaving. 

He kneels in the water, distantly aware of San leaning heavily against him, panting just as desperately. The current flows quickly again as if nothing at all had happened. When he can breathe easily again, he stares at San, drinking in the mirrored look of awe and fear in his eyes and shakes his head slowly. He has no idea what they just saw.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


“That was the _ hamsa _. The Goddess’ mount. You were visited by the divine spirit.” 

Wooyoung blinks rapidly. They’d come straight to the Seer after bathing and dressing, bodies still shivering with residual energy. 

“But- how? Why would it visit us?” 

There’s a small lilting laugh from the corner of the room. The shamans and sages from the other tribes seem to have set up home here, in the Seer’s hut, locked up and working together to seek visions, search the future together. It’s a little daunting to be in the same room as them, wolves of so much power and knowledge, so much older than him. 

“Young Omega, your magic calls to them, calls to the spirits. It’s saddening how unaware you are of your own abilities, both you and your mate,” a shaman drawls and Wooyoung flushes. 

“I haven’t exactly had any magic for the past month and more, actually,” he mutters, a little angry. San wraps a hand around his palm gently. 

The Seer stares at them for so long they start fidgeting. Then she makes a loud _ humph! _sound and fixes her gaze on San. 

“Did I not tell you Wooyoung would struggle in the near future?” San nods dumbly. The Seer rolls her eyes and it’s such an odd expression on her otherwise impassive face that Wooyoung almost laughs in surprise. 

“You misunderstood me San. You were and are always meant to be by his side. If you distance yourself from him, both of you suffer. Tell me, since you two have _ reconciled, _ has your magic not appeared?” Wooyoung blushes violently and feels San squeak a little next to him. Goddess, absolutely nothing escapes the Seer. He nods slowly and the Seer gestures with her hands as if to say, _ so there. _

“As for the spirit,” she murmurs, eyes drifting off somewhere unknown. “We did not see anything of it, but perhaps it was not for us to see. Do not fret, it is not a bad omen.” 

Wooyoung sags in relief. 

“But is it a good one? Is it somehow connected to the mortals? Some kind of sign from the spirit realm?” San voices all the questions Wooyoung has. 

“Hmm, we can’t be certain. The appearance of such a powerful spirit means that change is afoot. Something monumental is bound to happen. Spirits do not meddle in the affairs of this realm. But maybe there’s something far more important than any of us can foresee happening. And the two of you have a role to play in it.” The Seer turns to Wooyoung and tilts her head at him. 

“Tell me, without thinking too much of it, what are your instincts telling you?” 

Wooyoung takes a moment. Thinks of how he’d felt when the spirit appeared, the sense of awe, anticipation. Nothing about it felt inherently negative. He has the overwhelming sense of trepidation running through his body, as if gearing up for something. 

“To wait. I feel- a lot of anticipation, and it’s neither good nor bad. Something is going to happen, is going to be revealed but I- I don’t think it’s going to be harmful to us.” 

The Seer smiles, wide, displaying sharp white teeth, and taps her nose. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“You didn’t ask her about the- how I seemed to share your magic?” 

Wooyoung hums, flits his eyes towards San to find him gazing at him thoughtfully. It’s late at night, the entire village quiet in sleep. They’d made their way back quietly, secretly happy that no one had been around to catch them sneaking back. They’re lying tangled up in their bedspread, renewed sweat cooling on their bodies because they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other long enough. Wooyoung buries himself a little further into San’s arms and sighs before he answers. 

“I’m not sure why, really. It just- I don’t know why I had the feeling that it was supposed to happen, was bound to happen.” He wonders if it was just a momentary thing or if it would happen again. For some reason, he’d almost felt stronger with San by his side. He guesses it’s the same logic as the teachings he remembers, disciples sharing magic through their bond during rituals to make it easier, more efficient. Then it occurs to him. 

“Sannie, this means you’re magically gifted. Did you not know before this?” 

San furrows his brows and pouts a little in confusion. He shakes his head slowly. 

“No, I don’t know really. I never really tried anything beyond glamours and basic concealing magic. That’s what we’re all taught. I think I was too busy training to hunt and fight, I didn’t consider the possibility that I could be gifted.”

It makes sense. Wooyoung had been blessed, given a sign from the Goddess. But he knows many who simply practised and developed the ability. 

“It’s odd, I-I feel like I should be more anxious, I should be worried about my pack what with the threat of the mortals. But I just have this odd sense of peace. And of strength. Like I could face anything at all. Which is foolish because we don’t even know what the mortals are capable of.” 

And something about what San just said makes Wooyoung’s mind alert. He lifts himself up a little, trying to sit comfortably and not pull at San’s knot still snug inside him. He can’t quite believe he’d waited so long to do this with San, he can’t seem to get enough now. 

“That’s exactly it though. We don’t know anything about the mortals. I didn’t-I didn’t even realise but we’ve never made the effort to learn more about them, never had a chance to. Or even the willingness to honestly. We’re trying to defend ourselves against an unknown enemy.” 

San hums, pensive. “But what more can we do? We’re as prepared as we can be. The only thing that would help us immensely is if we could track them down, pick up their scents and figure out where they are, or where they’re heading. As much as I want to hope that they’re harmless, our kind has never come across a mortal that hasn’t been a threat. We need to learn as much as we can about them, somehow.”

Wooyoung deflates, head beginning to ache in frustration. San presses a kiss to his hair. 

“It’s alright, we’ll figure it out. I think, from what we saw today. There’s a lot more at play here.” 

Wooyoung hums, long and drawn out because he’s not sure what’s going on and he’s more than a little tired. He takes a deep breath of San’s scent and gets comfortable. 

“You know, I didn’t- I didn’t really tell you this before because I didn’t realise what was happening but what the Seer said today, about how the both of us suffer when we’re apart, I-I think I’ve spent the last two months like a fox chasing its own tail,” San murmurs, holding Wooyoung close. 

“My instincts felt off, just everything felt like it made no sense. And now, for the past few weeks, I’ve felt- powerful and settled. Like I found the direction I needed. And I-I didn’t even think of it but Wooyoung I haven’t had my rut either. It frustrates me that I had the luxury to forget about it when your plight plagued you so much. I’m so sorry, my love, but you’re not alone-you’re never alone.” 

_ Oh. _“San, what? I didn’t even-”

San smiles, warm and slow. “I think we all forget that mating doesn’t begin and end with an omega’s heat, we place so much unnecessary importance on it, so much expectation on the omega. I haven’t had my mating rut yet and I think it truly does have something to do with our bond. I still don’t know what they mean about us, but it-it feels important. You feel important.” 

And Wooyoung looks into San’s eyes, at the longing and reverence mirrored in his own, and knows that no matter what, he’ll always find peace right here, in his arms. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THAT UWU PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT IF YOU DID I THRIVE OFF COMMENTS
> 
> to lazy to link my twit but it's in the previous chapters lol and it's fightmehyuk ! 
> 
> hope you guys are having an okay time, as okay as we can be during such a harrowing situation! wishing you all the best and stay safe lads!


	5. while you hold me tight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH HELLO THERE LMAO ITS BEEN A WHILE   
here have an almost 10k update to this, i also apologise beforehand ahjfajkdsb  
i have a definitive outline for this fic now and I'm also going to put up the next chapter this weekend so!! YAY FOR ORGANISATION 
> 
> also: QUICK NOTE! I've changed one of the tribe names (from jaguar to panther) bc I think its a lot more fitting lol also, i may be wrong but there is an indigenous community in the Amazon that's colloquially called that so i do not want to accidentally appropriate or do any other harmful thing. This whole fic is basically born from me taking very basic, elemental parts of desi mythology and creating a magic system with it so in terms of the setting, geography etc none of it pertains to my country at all, like it's not at all an accurate representation of it, it's all made up, fantasy stuff. still!! I've tried my best to not appropriate indigenous communities in my own coutry or any others in terms of the names and markings of each tribe but if i accidentally have, please do let me know!! basically this is just the usual, wolf pack in the forests a/b/o thing but with extra magic and environmental metaphors lol. 
> 
> i hope you guys like this one uwu

Wooyoung wakes to the distant sound of screaming. 

It’s muffled, slipping through the webs of sleep in increments, a mere ringing in Wooyoung’s ears. He lies there in the floating place between waking and dreaming, cocooned in something warm, the vivid image of a soothing, slow fire crackling in his mind. Then suddenly the warmth is wrenched away from him and the noises come pouring in; loud screams, shrieks of fear coming from outside their hut. He wrenches his eyes open, iciness chilling his fingers, sitting up to find San already pulling on clothes frantically. 

San’s hands are shaking as he ties up the threads of his trousers, dark, muted terror in his eyes when he glances at Wooyoung, urging him to get dressed. He knows exactly what San’s thinking, knows the terror must be reflected in his own eyes; the last time he’d heard screams like this, he’d lost half his pack. His heart thuds uselessly, far too loud in his ears. He watches as San pulls on a hard vest, twirling a small hunting knife in hand, and he follows suit, dressing quickly, gingerly picking up his bow, slinging the quiver full of arrows over his shoulder. He’s had enough practice within the last few weeks that the hefty wood feels familiar under his fingers. 

“Wooyoung, stay behind,” San mutters, and Wooyoung opens his mouth to argue, can’t  _ believe  _ San would tell him to stay back-

“No, I mean, stay behind me and take aim if there is need to. You’d do a lot more damage from a distance with the bow. I hope to the Goddess that this is not what I think it is.” 

They take a moment, a bated breath, San’s palm squeezing his, before he swings open the door and they run outside, weapons in hand. Wooyoung expects to see his loved ones on the ground, injured, see mortals clad in those strange, padded clothes with colourful emblems, the long serpentine weapons they carry with ease aimed at his packmates. He expects to see carnage, expects to hear the loud sounds of the hard pellets being fired, but as they stand there, rooted in place, the bow slips out of his hand and hits the ground with a thud. 

Because it’s not mortals at all. It’s a great, ferocious _ tiger _ . 

The creature is huge, broad, easily as large as a fully grown bear, blazing coat streaked with black, a burst of colour amongst swathes of green. It’s wreaking havoc, leaping over huts, knocking out lit kindle and fire, growling and pouncing on people. It looks feral, crazed, roaring and gnashing teeth that are the length of a single palm, rearing its head back and forth, vicious tail whipping through the air. 

On instinct, a familiar thrumming under Wooyoung’s skin makes itself known, the need to shed his skin and shift, to face the predator head-on, and help the rest of his pack bring it to heel. Tigers aren’t a rarity; they roam the forests lazily but Wooyoung’s encountered enough over the years to know that a tiger entering a pack’s established territory is rare. Unheard of, even. The animals usually know to stay away, daunted by the scents, the clear markers of boundaries. 

Staring at the feral creature, Wooyoung grits his teeth and snarls, fingers fumbling with his clothes, eager to shed them and shift when a hand grips his and San’s soft voice echoes, “ _ Wait. _ ”

Wooyoung frowns, a question sitting on his lips, but San just gestures at the tiger, crouched on top of Seonghwa’s den and roaring down at them. 

“It hasn’t hurt anyone, look,” San mutters and Wooyoung blinks, looks around at the wreckage of the clearing, the smell of ash and soot in the air, of food spilt all over the ground, the disarray of his pack, hiding behind crates and bushes, peering up at the tiger in fear. What’s missing is the scent of injury, of blood and pain. No one is hurt. They’re just frightened and unsure. 

“Wooyoung! San! Get away from there!” Hongjoong appears in front of them, marching towards the tiger with a shaft of wood lit on fire, furiously gesturing at them to move. Behind him, more of his pack hold fire torches, clearly intending to drive the tiger away without resorting to violence. 

The tiger catches sight of the fire and roars, enraged, and Wooyoung makes an aborted movement forward subconsciously, focused on making sure the formidable creature doesn’t decide it’s had enough and attacks Hongjoong. 

But the tiger’s keen senses seem to catch Wooyoung’s movements, gaze narrowing in on him, teeth bared. San sucks a breath in and grasps Wooyoung’s arm, holding on tight. It’s like the air around them fizzles out, sound filtering away into the forest and suddenly, Wooyoung is aware of nothing but the creature and San’s infallible presence next to him. 

They watch, almost trance-like, as the tiger leaps off the roof and lands gracefully on its paws a few feet away from them. Wooyoung absently registers the way the rest of his pack wait with bated breath, Seonghwa brandishing a dagger in the corner of his eyes, Yeosang attempting to slowly inch closer and closer. 

The tiger, however, registers nothing, amber eyes holding Wooyoung’s frightened gaze, padding slowly and intently towards him. It comes closer and closer until it stands right in front of them, tail flicking behind it lazily. This close it’s almost impossibly large, the top of its ears reaching Wooyoung’s collarbone, it’s body thick and corded and oozing with strength and power. 

If Wooyoung weren’t so terrified, he would probably marvel at how stunning the creature is, how  _ regal.  _

He feels like a small, piteous creature trapped in the swirling amber of the tiger’s eyes, unable to move or even blink. He can only watch as the tiger comes even closer, till its snout is a hand’s breadth away from the centre of Wooyoung’s chest. Watch as it sniffs at him, a low, rumbling sound echoing from its body and melting into the ground. 

The tiger leans in, its snout barely resting on Wooyoung’s chest and huffs. Wooyoung has the bone-chilling thought that if the tiger were to rear back on its hind legs and stretch, it would engulf him whole. He must react in some way, his scent spiking, hands trembling, because San moves so quickly, Wooyoung barely sees it. One moment he’s gaping down at the tiger’s heavy head, heart thumping wildly. The second, he’s on the ground, pushed far away, and the tiger just about dodges a strike from San’s knife, roaring so loudly the birds scatter away, screeching into the air. 

San lunges with his knife again and the tiger turns tail and bounds away, leaping into the trees and disappearing into the forest. For a moment, everything is silent, everyone too shocked to move. Wooyoung blinks rapidly, wondering what exactly just  _ happened.  _

Then, San appears in front of him, gently tugging at his arms and pulling him up. 

“Are you alright? Goddess, I was so scared, when it just- I-” San rambles, panting heavily, eyes wide and glassy. He holds Wooyoung’s wrists so tight like he isn’t even aware of it. Wooyoung bites his lip, quells the panic deep within his stomach and pulls San in, clutching at him desperately. 

“I’m fine, it’s fine, I’m okay.” San sags against him, holding him close. From over his shoulder, Wooyoung catches the concerned faces of his packmates and nods intently, trying to let them know that it’s fine. And it really is fine, Wooyoung realises. Because he isn’t entirely sure whether there was anything to be afraid of anyway. 

He thinks of how calm the tiger had been, at odds with its agitation only a few moments before it saw Wooyoung. He thinks of how it felt-  _ strange  _ when the tiger touched him, like something trapped under the surface of rumbling water, far too close to breaking through and free. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“We’ll need to put up fences, something more. We have enough to worry about already, I’m not particularly keen on fighting rogue animals as well.” 

Wooyoung barely listens to Hongjoong’s complaint, staring at the crackling fire in front of him, fingers absently playing with the threaded mat he’s seated on. Next to him, Yeosang picks up a stone and tosses it into the fire, brows furrowed. The sun peeks out, despondent, from under a grey cloud, fading into a muted darkness as night comes closer and closer. 

It had taken them the whole day to fix the mess the tiger had caused. A whole day of collecting fresh tinder, repairing damaged huts and putting up protection wards, heavily scenting and marking the edges of their territory. 

“Yes, but isn’t it strange? Why would it even come here? Unless it was injured, perhaps? That’s happened before, Yeosang do you remember the boar from a few summers ago-”

“There was no scent of blood though. Nothing to suggest a wound. In any case, the animals usually tend to their wounds themselves, they only come here if they need something removed or-” Seonghwa pauses, mouth going slack. Half of his face is shrouded by shadows from the fire and it makes his arched brows look even more rapt, forlorn. 

“Pellets. The mortals,” is all he utters softly and Wooyoung purses his lips. “Perhaps, it was struck? Those things stick under your skin, go all the way deep down to your bones.” 

“Hmm, still, no scent of injury, love,” Hongjoong urges, leaning back on his palms. “It would have left a wound, a scratch, something.” 

Seonghwa sighs and adjusts himself so he’s sitting back on his elbows, frowning out into the distance, at the line of huts across the main clearing, scattered all the way to the edges of their territory. The night is loud, just as it has been for the past few weeks, nearly every hut housing someone, their little pack now growing, lively and teeming. Wooyoung watches as Seonghwa stares at the trees hugging the outskirts of their village, eyes boring into the dark, swirling green, as if he’s waiting for something to leap out, some other danger to present itself. 

Wooyoung sits up on his knees and shuffles towards him, reaching out to gently smooth the furrowed skin above his brows. Seonghwa blinks at him and smiles, soft and indulgent, and doesn’t protest when Wooyoung lays down next to him, head cradled in his lap. 

“How are you?” Is all he asks Wooyoung, smoothing back his hair from his forehead, staring down at him in concern. “We were all so worried,” he mutters, scent thickening. Wooyoung hums and rubs his nose into Seonghwa’s calf soothingly. 

“I’m alright. I think- I don’t think it intended to hurt me,” he says in a small voice. Someone makes a confused noise and Wooyoung fidgets with the sleeves of his shirt. 

“Yeah, it- I can’t explain it but I’m pretty sure it didn’t mean any harm. It felt very different, like- like it was trying to  _ tell  _ me something.” For a moment, no one says anything, the fire leaping and crackling loudly, eating up the considering silence. 

Then San hums and, almost as if he’s thinking out loud, whispers, “Like the spirit last night.” It’s like he’s dropped a sizzling pot of food with the way everyone reacts. 

“The  _ what?”  _

“When did this happen?” 

Seonghwa jostles Wooyoung’s head and scratches his scalp restlessly. “You saw a spirit? Like a malicious spirit or-”

“No, no, a forest spirit. A divine spirit,” San stresses and Hongjoong gasps even though the rest of them squint around, confused. San sits up on his haunches and explains what they saw, sharing the Seer’s insight with them. Wooyoung thinks back to last night and wonders, with a strange tension in his stomach, that an encounter with a wild animal right after seeing a divine spirit cannot be a mere coincidence. 

“Something’s happening. Something that is perhaps upsetting the forest and its creatures,” Hongjoong says, staring at Wooyoung as if searching for support. Wooyoung doesn’t truly know what to do beyond nodding at him in response. He has no idea what’s wrong. Why so much is happening at once. It frustrates him and scares him because although nothing has been violent or malevolent yet, he has the sickening feeling that there is so much more to come. 

A sour scent sits in the air and distantly, Wooyoung realises it’s coming from him. His stomach curls again in that anxious way that’s becoming far too familiar and he sits up with a groan and makes his way towards San, following his comforting scent, throwing himself into his mate’s arms and settling with his head pillowed in the curve of San’s neck. San huffs but holds him close, rubbing his cheek against Wooyoung’s hair as if he’s trying his best to smudge away the scent of Wooyoung’s distress. 

He sags, lets himself focus on nothing but the scent of San’s skin until the knot in his stomach loosens. When he feels less jittery, he realises it’s far too quiet around them and he lifts his head, peeking at his pack around the fire, flushing when he realises they’re all staring at San and him tangled together with poorly-concealed smiles. Mingi catches his eyes and bursts out into giggles, falling against Yunho’s side in mirth. 

“Well, we were going to be polite and not bring up the fact that the two of you smell like each other’s body fluids but there goes that,” Yeosang drawls and Wooyoung sputters while San’s entire body flushes in warmth and embarrassment. Wooyoung glares at each of them in turn and wraps a possessive hand around San’s neck.

“Should I not smell like my mate? Hongjoong and Seonghwa  _ reek every day _ but no one says anything to them! And-”

“Alright,  _ Goddess _ , let’s all calm down,” Seonghwa mutters, the tip of his nose bright red, and throws Wooyoung a beseeching look. “We’re only teasing. Everyone did the same to us when we were newly-mated.” 

“Oh yes, I remember a certain someone who wouldn’t shut up,” Hongjoong bites out, squinting at Wooyoung and raising an eyebrow. Mingi collects himself enough to sit up, elbow resting on Yunho’s shoulder and peering at Wooyoung apologetically. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just, after weeks of hearing San pine and extol your virtues, I’m just very delighted,” he explains. Wooyoung vividly feels San go still against him. 

“Oh? What did he say?” 

“Wooyoung-” San growls out but Wooyoung slaps him lightly on the chest, urging Mingi to go on who seems far too happy to do so, leaning forward, eyes wide and sparkling. 

“Literally every day, I swear,  _ Oh, Youngie looks so beautiful today _ or  _ Wooyoung is so smart, he’s so skilled _ or  _ Mingi, he has his hair up, he looks far too good, I’m going to lick his-” _

“Okay!” San claps his palms over Wooyoung’s ears, smelling very pungently of embarrassment. Wooyoung giggles, tipping his head back to press a smattering of light kisses onto San’s flushed cheeks, happiness enveloping him in warm, soft swathes. 

“We can’t wait till you guys mate properly! It’s always such a joyous occasion.” The brief moment of happiness fizzles out of him so quickly, Wooyoung has the irrational urge to grasp at the empty air in front of him in search of it. Someone makes a shushing sound and Hongjoong spits out a “Mingi! That’s none of your business” while the dumbfounded alpha looks around with wide, droopy eyes. 

“Did I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be rude, I just meant- they don’t have mating bites yet so I was just-” He sputters and Wooyoung purses his lips. 

“It’s okay, we just- we were going to wait till our cycles,” Wooyoung says quietly, grateful for the way San takes his hand in his and squeezes. “It’s fine Mingi, it’s okay to ask.” Mingi hums, nodding and sits back, large body hidden behind Yunho’s, as if he’s trying his best to shy away and Wooyoung smiles fondly. 

They sit in that simmering silence for a bit, like broth at its tipping point, aching to bubble over, and then Hongjoong gets up, dusting his pants off and looking at them intently. 

“Stay safe and alert. I’ll speak to any magic users and see if they can perhaps commune with the forest. In the meantime, just- let’s search harder,” he says desperately. 

“We’re already searching so much, we trawl the forest every day,” Yunho murmurs petulantly, lip jutting out. 

“Well, clearly the forest is coming to us now. And we need to listen,” is all Hongjoong declares. Then he glances at Wooyoung, gesturing at him to stand up. 

“Wooyoung will you join me? I need you to tell them what you saw and felt.” Wooyoung nods and stands up, pulling away from San reluctantly. He begins to walk towards Hongjoong when a hand settles on his shoulder gently. 

“Wait-” San pulls him behind carefully and quickly, engulfs him in a hug, cradling the back of his head. 

“Just- I hope you know how much- I don’t care about any of it Wooyoung. I only care about you,” he whispers, quiet enough that the others won’t be able to pick up on it and Wooyoung shudders, sagging against San for a moment. 

“I know.” And he does. Or he’s beginning to. Even if it's overwhelmingly difficult to convince himself, he can feel the comforting weight of San’s sincerity. He leaves a searing kiss to San’s forehead and pulls away, body light and chest heavy with something earnest and cradled close. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


They go to The Seer but she’s unhelpful. Wooyoung is beginning to think she’s this close to kicking them out every time they come and he understands. She can’t possibly have all the answers. This is something they’re going to have to wait out and see. 

“I’m- fuck, this is so frustrating,” Hongjoong grumbles when they leave the incense-soaked hut. It’s late, well past bedtime and Wooyoung’s body aches with the early pull of sleep and fatigue. The sky is clear and bright, a perfect spring night. In the distance, an owl hoots urgently and Wooyoung frowns. 

“It feels like we’re missing something so big,” he mutters. “Like, there’s something right in front of us that we can’t see. If the mortals- if they really are here, I wonder how they’ve managed to hide away for so long. The forest is unforgiving even for us.” 

Hongjoong tuts, wringing his hands. “That’s exactly it, right? It makes me- I’m afraid of what that means,” he says, chewing at his lip and then sighs. “I don’t know. We just- we just need to be prepared. That’s all.” He gives Wooyoung a meaningful glance and raises his eyebrows. 

“Wooyoung. I know there’s an unspoken burden on you and I just hope you know how grateful we are for you,” he says and Wooyoung averts his eyes. 

“I mean, I do help but it’s not enough-”

“You can’t be serious,” Hongjoong scoffs, giving Wooyoung an incredulous look. “I know you’ve been struggling with your magic, pup, but you’re still such a powerful wolf. You mustn't think of yourself that way. No one else does,” he urges and Wooyoung wishes that were enough to dissolve the bezoar lodged deep in his stomach, like a fossilised relic of all his fears and worries. 

“I’m- thank you,” he whispers, as sincerely as he can. “ Actually, something- I felt my magic yesterday. While, well-” he shuts his mouth quickly, peering at Hongjoong and blushing when he sees the wide-eyed realisation on his face. Hongjoong hums and then snorts. 

“That’s very common and a wonderful sign! Some magic users find a lot of strength through carnal rituals. It’s perfectly fine Wooyoung, you should be happy!” 

“I am.” He thinks. “I’m just- is it- is it really that bad that we’ve,  _ you know _ , before our cycles? And before cementing the bond? And is it a bad thing that my magic relies on sexual energy? I feel like- I feel as if that undermines it, as if it’s not sacred enough but also as if I  _ need  _ to be having sex in order to use it, I don’t  _ know _ -” he rambles, everything coming out in a loud rush. His head aches, chest heaving and hands shaking, and he has the sudden urge to sob and sob and never stop. 

“Hey, oh Wooyoung,” Hongjoong mutters, wrapping him up in a hug and holding him tight. He lets Wooyoung bury his face in his shoulder and cry in short bursts, the emotions pouring out of him as if he has no control over them. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” He smooths Wooyoung’s hair gently, massaging his back, a soothing, sturdy presence. 

When Wooyoung’s exhausted himself, chest hitching and eyes aching, Hongjoong squeezes his shoulders and tugs away, wiping at Wooyoung’s face and cooing. He smiles at Wooyoung and sighs heavily. 

“Come on, let’s go to my place and talk.” 

They walk slowly, Wooyoung latched onto Hongjoong’s arm like a sulking child and refusing to let go, until they reach Hongjoong’s homely little hut and he pushes Wooyoung in, setting him down on a pile of furs fashioned into a makeshift seat. It’s comfortable and warm and Wooyoung curls up in it, rubbing his face into the soft material. 

“Here,” Hongjoong hands him a glass of water and sits down in front of him. “Okay, I need you to tell me what you’re so afraid of. Slowly.” 

Wooyoung gulps down the water and exhales heavily, pouting. “I’m not  _ afraid. _ Or well, I don’t know. I’m just- yesterday, I could only feel my magic, something, after the two of us fucked and that’s- I don’t know how to feel about that.” 

“Why? Like I said, carnal magic is very common.” 

“I know! But, I’m afraid that I won’t be able to do magic any other way. And that’s okay but, we already haven’t mated  _ properly _ and it’s just- is it not wrong? The way we’re doing things? Does that make me promiscuous or just-” He wants to say the same thing he told San.  _ Broken.  _ Because isn’t it only expected to do things the right way? “I feel like I’m expected to do things a certain way and now I’m not doing it that way and I just- I don’t want to feel  _ wrong. _ ” 

Hongjoong says nothing, staring at Wooyoung with an unreadable look in his eyes. 

“Wooyoung, I’m an infertile omega mated to a  _ pack  _ alpha. I promise you, there never will be a right way to do anything.”

Wooyoung’s mouth drops open so wide he’s afraid he might dislocate his jaw. He gawks at Hongjoong, trying to process what he just said. 

“ _ What _ ?” 

Hongjoong simply laughs, his small palm coming up to cover his mouth like he’s incredibly amused by Wooyoung’s shock. “I mean, we never really hid it, but we didn’t announce it either. It really is no one’s business,” Hongjoong says airily. “But well, I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it. Yeosang did almost immediately. I mean, I’ve been mated to Seonghwa for over two summers now. It does rear a few heads that I seem to not go into heat.” 

“I-I never knew, how did I not  _ know _ .” Hongjoong shrugs, still smiling. 

“It wasn’t any of your business,” he says simply, cocking an eyebrow. Wooyoung falters, mouth opening and closing comically. He has so many questions, he doesn’t even know where to begin. 

“Seonghwa knew.” Hongjoong answers the most pressing one Wooyoung has etched onto his face, “We met when he came to my old pack, and started flirting with me immediately, the  _ ass _ ,” he mutters fondly, eyes darkening with the memory. 

“I told him right then and there and all he had to say was that it didn’t matter. I couldn’t believe it, I refused to believe it because well, my pack was not as accommodating to me. I used to believe I wasn’t an omega at all but, I smell like one and I am one. I just don’t have heats, because my body is barren,” he explains. 

“I had a ceremony like you but almost no one from my pack took part in it. I was very hurt- I wanted nothing to do with it, but then Seonghwa showed up and he was so sincere and he did everything he could to prove that he wanted me. It was so strange, this unbearably young alpha, leading a small pack, doing his best to win the affections of a barren omega.” 

Hongjoong smiles ruefully, bottom lip beginning to wobble. “It took a while for me to believe him really, even when we were mated. And I always thought you could only mate during a cycle because that’s just what we do, the first cycle after a ceremony, but-” he gestures to the bond mark on his neck intently.

“So, I understand you. I also understand your reservations about your magic. It’s a beautiful thing that yours grows stronger with San. But if you were able to use it before he came along, I assure you that you’ll be able to use it without his  _ intervention _ . Perhaps, it’s not even about the sex, perhaps it’s just about you and him, Wooyoung. And sex is just a way for you to channel what you feel. You aren’t  _ wrong  _ for wanting it and you aren’t wrong for not wanting it either. Do you understand me?” 

And Wooyoung thinks that maybe, he finally does. 

“I- I do,” he murmurs. “It’s- I’m sorry for- I was just, anxious and I’ve- I’ve always tried to do the right thing, whatever was expected of me, especially for my mother but now, I feel so very lost-”

“You don’t have to apologise for anything. I understand the uncertainty, the fear of going away from what you’ve been taught. Especially right now, when we all feel unsafe and scared. But you’re not wrong, I promise you. Not every one of us is the same and not all of us love the same way. Goddess, the Seer is celibate, I’m pretty sure she’s never had a mate or ever wanted one. And that was her choice. Wouldn’t you say she’s the most powerful wolf here?” 

Wooyoung nods vigorously, the realisation dawning on him like the burst of early sunlight against a dark sky. Something about it is so relieving, knowing that he’s not the only one, that he’s not selfish for thinking this way and that he’s not  _ alone.  _

He springs up from his seat and throws his arms around Hongjoong, hugging him as tightly as he can, ignoring the growl of protest the omega lets out. 

Seonghwa finds them just like that, gaping at the way Wooyoung holds on for dear life while Hongjoong tries his best to peel him off his body. He blinks and then laughs boisterously and joins them until Hongjoong’s surrounded, unable to escape their affection, deflating and pouting even though he smells like a garden full of fresh, sickeningly sweet berries. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


He must fall asleep at some point, drifting away on top of Hongjoong, lulled to sleep by the scent of his pack alpha and head omega, because he’s woken up by Seonghwa’s gentle needling, and another familiar scent in the air. 

Taking a deep breath in, he feels like his body grows lax, sated and he pouts, frowning when Seonghwa keeps poking him. He’s so sleepy and content, why does he need to wake up? He grumbles and swats at Seonghwa’s hands, turning over to the other side. Seonghwa must take the hint because he leaves. Wooyoung’s about to drift off again when that scent grows heavier and something touches his back. 

_ “Wooyoung?”  _ And Wooyoung knows that voice. He turns back around and squints. The hut is dark, the only light a small lamp burning away in the corner. It’s more than enough for him to see San’s fond face, his loose braid unravelling as he bends over, trying to coax Wooyoung awake. 

“Hey, sweet pup,” San coos, massaging at Wooyoung’s abdomen. “Come on, you can’t sleep here. I’ll take you home.” 

Wooyoung feels like he’s been dipped in simmering, molten honey.  _ Home. _ Something about that word, the way San says it, fills him with so much euphoria, he can’t help but smile, not protesting when San tugs him up to his feet. He staggers, leaning into San’s chest and taking a big whiff of his scent. He smells of ash and wood and wet soil, everything that Wooyoung associates with home. 

He’s barely aware of the walk to their hut, draped as he is over San’s back, vaguely registering being set on their bedspread and whining when San tries to pull away. San laughs, gently untangling Wooyoung’s hands from his shirt and moving away. 

“I need to change. And you too.” Wooyoung’s more awake now, irrationally annoyed that San isn’t listening to him. He stares at San as the alpha walks around, taking his clothes off and setting them aside. He’s completely nude and he doesn’t seem to care but Wooyoung suddenly finds it hard to look at him, a strange shyness coming over him. San climbs onto the bedspread and shuffles towards him, patting at his stomach. 

“Take your clothes off, you can’t sleep in that,” he says, hand sliding up his flank, massaging the dip right below his ribs. Wooyoung shudders, eyes fixed anywhere that isn’t his alpha’s distressingly naked body and huffs. San seems to take it as stubbornness and he sighs, pinching Wooyoung’s side. 

“Come on, love, you’ll feel so uncomfortable when you wake up, it’s too hot to sleep in anything tonight,” he urges, tugging at Wooyoung’s shirt. Wooyoung wordlessly raises his arms in the air, a clear gesture to San to take his clothes off himself. San rolls his eyes and begins to tug Wooyoung’s tunic off, pushing it up to his chest and carefully, over his head, leaving another pinch to Wooyoung’s exposed belly. 

He tugs at the waistband of Wooyoung’s pants and slowly, slides them off, caressing Wooyoung’s shins. When he’s done, Wooyoung’s ready to turn over and sleep the fluttering feeling in his stomach away but San sits between his legs, palms sliding up and down the meat of Wooyoung’s thighs. Wooyoung chances a glance at him, cheeks burning and barely contains a whimper, obsessed with the look on his face, the way he stares at Wooyoung, so hungry and reverent, the way he kneads his muscles, massaging all the way up to his hips and down. 

“So beautiful, I can’t- I can’t fathom how lovely you are Wooyoung,” San whispers and all the blood rushes down to Wooyoung’s cock. He writhes, feeling somehow both like a sculpture to be marvelled at and prey to be hunted. It’s heady and addictive and Wooyoung welcomes the feeling, the way San manages to affect him so ardently. 

His scent must thicken with arousal because San’s eyes flick up to his, shining with mirth, and then he leans down, rubbing his nose into the fleshiest part of Wooyoung’s thigh, leaving tender kisses all the way up to his pelvis. It’s scathing, his skin so sensitive, he jumps and shivers with every touch of San’s lips, sighing when San finally slots his mouth over the head of his cock, suckling at it slowly. 

“Do- It’s-” He wants to tell San to hurry up and do  _ something  _ because his stomach burns and his cock aches but San simply hums and painstakingly slow, opens his mouth wider and takes in Wooyoung’s cock, palm wrapped around the base. Wooyoung and stifles down the urge to thrust into the warm, wet heat of San’s mouth, fingers digging into the soft sheets under them. 

“S-San-” His voice trembles, palm shaking when he brings it up to cover his mouth, overwhelmed. San hums again but doesn’t stop, so focused on pleasuring him, bobbing his head up and down, free hand groping his thigh, leaving the indent of his fingernails buried in the soft skin. 

Wooyoung doesn’t know how much time passes just like that, lost in the way San’s making him feel but at some point, he feels his stomach tighten, the heat overwhelming and he spills into San’s mouth, gasping and panting. San says nothing, licks it all up and then lifts his head up, wiping at his mouth and grinning at Wooyoung. 

“Come here,  _ Goddess _ ,” Wooyoung exclaims, grabbing the back of San’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss, licking into his mouth and swallowing down his groans and whimpers. It should feel dirty; it’s hot and they’re both sweating and Wooyoung can taste his own release on San’s tongue but it just feels so  _ good _ , something possessive curling in the recesses of Wooyoung’s mind, the idea that San smells like him, like he’s pleased him and marked him. 

San ruts against him, cock pressing into his belly, thrusting against him wildly and Wooyoung curls a lazy hand around it when San jerks and whines, spurting all over Wooyoung’s stomach and chest. He sighs into Wooyoung’s mouth, nibbling at his lips and then relaxes, body heavy over Wooyoung’s, every inch of him pressed against his front. It’s a welcome weight, Wooyoung finds. He really enjoys being covered like this, San’s slightly taller frame and broader shoulders keeping him safe. 

Something tickles his stomach and Wooyoung looks down, gazing at the way San’s smearing his come into Wooyoung’s skin languidly, chest rumbling in satisfaction. Wooyoung giggles, making an exaggerated noise of exasperation and swats San’s shoulder. 

“Disgusting. We’re going to need to wash up now.” San shakes his head, arms moving around to hold Wooyoung’s waist, head settling against Wooyoung’s chest. He’s effectively keeping Wooyoung trapped, he realises with amusement. 

“No. In the morning,” San grumbles petulantly and Wooyoung sighs, running his fingers through San’s hair and getting comfortable because there’s no way the alpha’s going to let him move now. 

“You know- you, we don’t have to wait.” San makes a high-pitched noise, confused. 

“As in, to mark each other. We don’t need to wait for our cycles. We can cement the bond anytime.” 

San lifts his head up and considers Wooyoung carefully. 

“You don’t want to wait?”

“Do  _ you _ ? Do we have to?” 

“I mean, not really. It’s just what’s usually done, I guess. But we can do it whenever, I told you,” San says easily, shrugging. He noses at Wooyoung’s throat, lips locking over his scent gland and sucking at it. Wooyoung shudders, mouth going dry. 

“Can do it now, mark you right now, so tomorrow everyone will see it and smell how just much you belong to me,” he growls, teeth poised over the delicate skin. Wooyoung whines but pets at San’s hair insistently. 

“No, I still- I don’t want everyone to just be able to see it, I want it to feel special. Like it’s just ours. On the night of the spring harvest? That’s in another week. If it’s safe enough, the pack will be busy with the Chase, and we’ll- it just feels like an auspicious night.”

“I want to- I’ll take you somewhere special, I’ll scout around, ask the others. It’ll be safe, I promise,” San says softly, kissing Wooyoung’s cheek. Wooyoung snorts, but his cheeks almost hurt with how wide he smiles, eyes glassy and head light. 

“I look forward to it, my love.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“So…”

Wooyoung peers up at Yeosang from where he’s squatted on the ground, trying to reinforce the newly propped fence around the village with as much warding energy as possible. 

Hongjoong had made sure it was quick work, employing the help of as many able-bodied wolves as possible. They’d taken merely two days to string together tough bamboo and anchor it into the ground. The makeshift fence itself isn’t a fantastic barrier but once Wooyoung and the other magic users are done with strengthening the wards, it should be formidable to animals and mortals alike. It’s difficult because Wooyoung’s magic still isn’t as strong as it used to be but it’s there and he needs to focus, if only Yeosang would  _ let  _ him. 

Yeosang’s leaning against the fence, supposedly assisting Wooyoung and tightening the ropes but he hasn’t done much except for sigh heavily and rub his sweaty forehead. Wooyoung glances around at the sky, takes in the lack of a blazing sun, the air tepid around them and comes to the conclusion that Yeosang’s doing his best to be as dramatic as possible. 

As if he can hear Wooyoung, he huffs, leaning down to flick his ear, ignoring the yowl Wooyoung lets out. 

“Anyway, so…” 

“So, what?” 

Yeosang says nothing for a moment, and Wooyoung stops, sitting back on his haunches and gazing up at his friend. He looks... nervous. He truly is sweating far too much for the weather and he keeps smoothing his hair back even when it’s not bothering him at all. 

“I- I need your advice.” Wooyoung lights up, giving up on his work and sitting down on the ground with a little thump, staring up at Yeosang with glee. Yeosang rolls his eyes but settles down in front of him, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. 

“Goddess, it’s unbearably hot today. Aren’t you hot?” Wooyoung shakes his head, raising an eyebrow at Yeosang but choosing to remain silent. Yeosang mulls over whatever he’s thinking, eyebrows pinched together. 

“I want to court Jongho. I want to also mate with him. As soon as possible,” he announces firmly and Wooyoung tries to quell his surprise. He’s not sure why he’s surprised- he’s known about Yeosang’s affections for a while now. But it’s the way Yeosang says it, determined and confident. Wooyoung’s always been a little envious of Yeosang’s tenacity. His resolve to remain true to himself and pursue exactly what he wants. Where Wooyoung faltered and worried, Yeosang always stood steady on his feet. He wishes he was as confident, as  _ fearless  _ as his best friend. 

“You should! Both of you are very transparent about your intentions. You’d make a wonderful pair,” he encourages, reaching out to pat at Yeosang’s knee. He expects Yeosang to do many things. Maybe smile or snort or roll his eyes. What he doesn’t expect Yeosang to do is start sniffing and tear up. 

“Then why does it not feel that way?” He whispers brokenly, mouth turned downwards. “Why does he go out of his way to avoid me and keep his distance from me? I don’t know what else to do, I’ve tried to court him, I gifted him so many things, I try to- but he just- I don’t think he cares for me the way I care for him.” He wipes at his eyes furiously, breath hitching and Wooyoung blinks, distantly thinking that perhaps this is one of the very few times he’s ever seen Yeosang cry. He thinks back to a few days ago, to the conversation he’d had with Jongho and sighs wearily. 

“Yeosang,” he soothes, shuffling forward to gather Yeosang into his arms, allowing the omega to hide his red face in his shoulder, shoulders jerking. “He does, I promise you, he does. We’ve spoken about it before, I think he seems to think  _ you  _ don’t return his affections. He’s resolved to himself that he cannot have you which is perhaps why he tries to stay away from you.” 

Yeosang’s head jerks up, face marred with frustration. “Have I not been clear enough?” 

“Well, I’ve known you for a very long time and sometimes you- it’s a little difficult to understand you,” Wooyoung says carefully, eyeing the way Yeosang pout deepens, brows flattening out into a thin line. “It’s well- I used to admire that about you actually, you’re always so collected and unafraid and yeah- I was jealous.” 

Yeosang scoffs, flicking Wooyoung’s ear again. “I’m not unafraid, you idiot. I’m just- I don’t like feeling vulnerable, I care about you and everyone else a lot and it- it overwhelms me,” he mutters, fiddling with the strings of Wooyoung’s shirt, not looking him in the eye. “I don’t know how to show it aside from being there for you however I can.” 

“You are. And you do show it, I know you care about me. But I’m also far more perceptive than Jongho,” Wooyoung quips, earning a snort from Yeosang. “I think you need to let him know clearly. So there’s no doubt in his mind.” 

Yeosang chews at the inside of his cheek and then nods quickly, sniffing and rubbing his face with the sleeve of his shirt. He huffs, standing up and stretching a hand out for Wooyoung to take. 

“I will, I should tell him soon,” he muses, scratching his nose distractedly. Then he gives Wooyoung an amused smile, reaching out to poke him in the stomach playfully. “It’s so funny that you would be jealous. I was-  _ am _ jealous of you, Wooyoung.”

“ _ Me? _ ” 

“Yeah,” he snickers. “You just- I don’t think you realise how impressive, how strong you are Wooyoung. When we were younger, I used to- I was jealous of your abilities. It was foolish because I had my own, I am a skilled hunter and I knew I was worthwhile too. But I guess, jealousy just works that way, it is irrational. Since you were the only other unmated omega, I couldn’t help but compare myself to you. And then, San came along and it just- it seemed like everything was falling into place for you. I was so happy but I couldn’t- I was scared that the same wouldn’t happen for me.” 

“I’m not- I’m scared all the time, Yeosang,  _ nothing  _ is falling into place-” 

“I know. And I’m sorry I haven’t- I’ve been so focused on myself that I haven’t really been there for you. I realised it yesterday when- your scent constantly has a sour tinge to it, like you’re always worried.” Yeosang steps towards him and gives him a short, tight hug, exhaling heavily. 

“I’m sorry. And thank you- you’re, I love you. Even if I don’t say it as much as I should,” he murmurs and Wooyoung’s stomach flips, his throat tightening. He hugs Yeosang back tighter, as tight as he possibly can and whispers the same to him. Hugging Yeosang always feels special, something to be treasured, because Yeosang’s affection is earned, and so fervently sincere. But Wooyoung’s unable to savour it, quickly distracted because this close to Yeosang, he’s able to discern his scent underneath all the emotion and sweat and he gasps. Yeosang’s scent is thick, heavy and  _ ripe.  _

He pulls away urgently. “Yeosang, I think you’re going into heat.”

Yeosang blinks rapidly, lifting his shirt up to his nose and sniffing. 

“I don’t- I smell the same-” 

“No, you absolutely do not, you smell very  _ very  _ strong. You may have a day or two. At most.” 

Yeosang rubs at his face in agitation and quietly asks Wooyoung to take him to Hongjoong. Hongjoong will know what to do. 

Wooyoung all but drags him, letting him bury his face in his arm to escape the whirlpool of scents in the air, until they’re standing in front of a bewildered Hongjoong, who opens his mouth in question and then immediately shuts it, eyes widening. 

“Oh Goddess, Yeosang,” he mutters, staring at the sweaty, red omega with wide eyes. 

“Yes,” Wooyoung affirms. “What do we do?” 

Hongjoong gawps, eyes racing and then claps his hands on Yeosang’s shoulders. “I don’t think we have a hut available Yeosang, but you can take the omega’s hut, I’ll move the young ones at mine, Seonghwa and I will be scouting at night anyway-”

“No, I want- can I spend it with someone? I want to spend it with Jongho,” Yeosang says quietly, shyly, and Wooyung squashes down the urge to coo. 

“I-I mean, you can, of course, I can make a formal request for you as well, I’ll ask someone to fetch him-”

“Please. Yes, I need-please.” Yeosang looks about ready to burst out of his skin and Hongjoong doesn’t waste a moment, yelling at a nearby wolf to send for Jongho. He looks back at the two of them and then gestures towards his hut, beckoning them inside. 

Jongho must run all the way to them because Wooyoung hears him panting from outside, his scent pungent and anxious. Yeosang perks up, legs jiggling and face impassive. When Jongho enters the hut, he looks at no one but Yeosang, giving Wooyoung and Hongjoong a short greeting and Wooyoung snorts. How Yeosang thought Jongho wasn’t interested in him is a  _ mystery.  _

“Jongho, Yeosang’s going into heat and if you’re willing, he’d really like it if you would assist him through it.” 

Jongho’s eyes go so wide, Wooyoung’s afraid they might pop out of his head. 

“I’m sorry,  _ what? _ ” 

“Yeosang’s going into-”

“Goddess, Jongho, do you want to spend my heat with me or not! Because I really want you to. Because I really- I like you. A lot,” Yeosang declares, glaring at Jongho. “Not just- I want to spend my next heat with you too. And all the ones after that,” Yeosang murmurs, chewing at his lips while Jongho does his best impression of a fish. Wooyoung and Hongjoong look between the two of them with a conflated mix of concern and amusement. 

“I-Of course I do but-” Jongho shakes his head, frowning. “I thought you had someone else in mind? Wooyoung told me you were thinking of someone.” Wooyoung’s going to vibrate out of his skin, opening his mouth to help but Yeosang beats him to it, tutting and in one sure movement, walking up to Jongho and planting a firm kiss to his lips. 

“Yeah, I was. I was thinking of  _ you _ .” Jongho seems to take a moment to process that, mouth parted. And then he leans in and kisses Yeosang furiously, desperately, fingers bunching up his shirt. He pulls away and pecks Yeosang on the cheek, smiling sweetly and giggling when Yeosang sags against him. 

“I think we need to talk,” he mutters, laughing when Yeosang makes an affronted noise and holds him close. Wooyoung watches the way all the tension slips out of Yeosang’s shoulders, his cheeks ruddy and bunched up, happier than he’s ever seen him and unbidden, a memory flits across his mind. 

One of Yeosang the first time Wooyoung had seen him, scrawny and tough, peering at Wooyoung’s shivering frame on a cold, winter night. At that time, grief hung on Wooyoung like a second skin, the trauma of his pack still fresh in his mind. Yeosang had introduced himself curtly, listened to Seonghwa explain who Wooyoung was and then without a word, had picked up the furs from his own bed and bundled Wooyoung up in them. 

“You smell bad. This will make you feel better,” he’d murmured. Wooyoung hadn’t known what to think, shakily settling into his own bed and trying his best to sleep, watching the boy next to him lay down and do the same. Hours later, when he’d begun to cry in the silence, lonely and scared, Yeosang had gotten up and curled himself around Wooyoung, holding him until he’d stopped crying and drifted off into a peaceful sleep, nestled against each other like the curve of the crescent moon against the expanse of the night sky. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


The next few days are peaceful and it’s almost like  _ before.  _ Before the looming threat had appeared to them, hiding within the shadows of the forest. 

All the packs anticipate for the spring harvest, preparing for a bountiful feast and celebration, practising the rituals for the Chase. This harvest, and the autumnal one, is always Wooyoung's favourite time of the year. A time of fun and celebration and delicious food. The Chase is a delight as well, running under the full moon with his beloved pack members. Wooyoung’s taken part in it every year, rollicking around with other wolves, hunting down large beasts in sport and nipping at Seonghwa’s heels just to be an annoyance. His wolf revels in the feeling of pack and togetherness but this year- this year he has even more to anticipate and be impatient about. 

  
  


It shows in the way he can’t keep his hands off San, tugging him into the small space of their hut and having his way with him, dragging him towards the stream and riling him up, only to leave him aching and frustrated. He enjoys the simmering hunger in San’s scent, the whines of frustration and submission, the way he lets Wooyoung do whatever he wants, staring at him open-mouthed, eyes glazed. It makes Wooyoung want to push him down to the ground and ride his cock till San’s mewling and writhing, holding him so tight it leaves purple bruises on his skin. 

Which is exactly what he does a day before the harvest. 

“Woo- _ fuck _ , I-” San’s gone, head thrown back against the grass, hands gripping Wooyoung’s ass so tight it hurts in a delicious, wanton way. It’s brazen and a little foolish that they’re doing this here, in a tiny clearing outside the pack’s territory, barely beyond the grounds they use for training and in broad daylight. It’s shameless, desperate, but it had taken nothing more than San letting Wooyoung feed him in the morning, allowing him to stuff his face with spoonfuls of food, looking reverent and more than a little dazed. 

He looks just like that now, panting, thrusting up into Wooyoung in short, aborted movements, like he’s too overwhelmed to do more. It fills Wooyoung with a strange kind of satisfaction, pinning his alpha under him, rolling his hips down deliberately, clenching around the cock in his ass and drinking in the way San whines and moans. 

He finishes first, back arching, breath coming out in tufts, and rides it out, grinding down fluidly. When he’s recovered enough that his vision isn’t white and hazy, he lifts up from San’s cock, ignoring his protests and begins fisting it, moving his hand deftly, the glide made easy with the remnants of his own slick. He knows San registers it, knows San likes it even though he twists and pulls at his own hair. 

“Come on, Sannie, so pretty, such a pretty alpha.  _ My  _ alpha,” he croons, and smiles when San finally arches and spills all over his fist, the muscles of his abdomen quivering. He breathes heavily, arm splayed lazily over his face and Wooyoung hums, sated, stretching his own out and towards the sky, twisting till the little twitch in his back cracks. 

“Goddess, you are a fucking menace, Wooyoung,” San mutters, voice husky and tired. He peers at Wooyoung from under his arm, glaring. “ _ Insatiable _ .” Wooyoung pouts in mock offence, crawling on top of San and planting a kiss to his forearm, snuggling his way down San’s neck and settling against his chest. 

“I’m sorry! I just like watching you suffer,” he says endearingly, rubbing his nose into San’s sternum. San laughs, bringing his hand down to play with Wooyoung’s hair. 

“It’s gotten pretty long huh?” He tugs lightly at his locks and Wooyoung hums. It’s not that long, just shaggier than usual and still a lot shorter than San’s shoulder-length hair. But it’s long enough for San to play with it absently, weaving tiny, messy braids in. 

The forest is calm, the sun warm and balmy. A robin’s call echoes from somewhere high above and Wooyoung’s body melts, senses lulled by the sounds of the forest, the soughing of the wind through fresh smelling leaves, the crackling of branches and chirping animals a blanket of comfort. And over it all, the scent of San’s contentment, like syrup on his tongue. 

It’s short-lived though because not even a moment later, San grows rigid under him, lifting up on his elbows a little and sniffing at the air. 

“What?” Wooyoung asks sulkily, reluctantly sitting up and pulling on his discarded clothes, grimacing at the stickiness of his skin. San’s alert in front of him, slowly putting his own clothes with his head angled to the sky, like he’s listening to something Wooyoung’s not privy to. 

“What!” 

San blinks, glancing at Wooyoung. “I don’t know, I can smell something. It’s very faint though. Smells like- like us, familiar,” he murmurs and then blushes. “Fuck, I hope no one saw us.” 

“What happened to  _ I want everyone to see my claim on you _ , hmm?” Wooyoung scoffs, giggling when San’s blush darkens. He pulls his vest on gingerly and gives Wooyoung a scathing look. When he’s done he jogs up to Wooyoung and jabs him in the ribs, tickling him furiously till Wooyoung’s screeching laughter echoes into the sky. 

“So noisy, so loud all the time,” San complains good-naturedly, smacking his lips against Wooyoung’s forehead, then once again, softer, against his lips. He smiles and for a moment, Wooyoung feels a little light on his feet and he clings to San as they head back. 

And maybe that’s why they don’t notice it until it’s too late, so wrapped up in each other that they don’t hear the snapping of twigs, the rustle of dead leaves, the smell of  _ otherness.  _

Wooyoung’s grinning up at San, watching him as he speaks animatedly when something barrels into them out of nowhere, heavy and smelling of disease and  _ rot _ , separating him from San and sending him straight into the unforgiving trunk of a tree.

He groans, mind reeling from shock, the middle of his back burning with the kind of pain that makes your eyes squeeze up and pool with tears and he just about makes out the shape of something large and hulking, growling at San’s prone body lying away from him. 

His heart thuds and he lifts himself up wearily, bracing himself on his knees. Blinking rapidly, he squints and almost wishes he hadn’t because the thing, the creature is one he recognises. 

It’s a  _ wolf _ . It’s one of them. And it has its teeth sunk into San’s leg, keeping him seized up in pain. 

“N-no,” Wooyoung mutters weakly, scrambling to his feet and staggering towards the wolf. It’s head snaps up and it fixes Wooyoung with the most crazed eyes he has ever seen, mouth curled into a snarl. It looks unrecognisable, fur matted and dirty, injuries nicked all over its skin. It smells like it's  _ dying _ and yet, the way it's leaning over San, frothing at the mouth tells Wooyoung it’s far more focused on hurting someone else rather than saving itself. It’s been driven to this, to something mindless and violent. 

“You- please, why are you here?” The wolf growls louder and buries his teeth even deeper into San’s thigh, making the alpha shriek, blood blooming under his cotton pants. San’s arm lies bent at an unnatural angle next to him and Wooyoung slowly realises that’s why San isn’t trying to fight the thing off. Fear surges up in Wooyoung, choking him and he exhales heavily, trying to tamp down the urge to cry out. The wolf is far too feral to understand anything; Wooyoung can see it in the dark, blown pupils of its eyes and he makes a quick decision, hoping to the Goddess it doesn’t cost him San’s life. 

The shift takes over his mind first and then his body. When he’d first begun to shift, his mother had explained that this helped the body forget the pain. Right now though, his panic makes everything feel excruciating and Wooyoung feels his muscles tear, his limbs morph in a sickeningly vivid way, tearing out of his clothes till he’s on all fours, eyes piercing into the feral wolf’s.

The creature does what Wooyoung had hoped: he registers Wooyoung as a new threat and lets go of San, slowly rearing back on his hind legs and snarling viciously at Wooyoung. Wooyoung has only a moment to check on San, eyes flitting over to him, when the wolf springs and he barely avoids the wide-open maw, the teeth aimed right for his throat. 

He flips over and the wolf springs again, this time scratching at Wooyoung’s flank with his claws. It's bigger than Wooyoung but Wooyoung is nimble, faster, and he twists and turns, leading the wolf away and into the open forest, no idea where he’s going but determined to keep it away from San and his pack. 

The wolf smells delighted at the prospect of a chase and speeds up till it’s dangerously close to Wooyoung’s heels. Wooyoung’s heart races and the forest passes by him in a blur, nothing but his own terror and the stench emanating from the wolf filling up Wooyoung’s awareness. It isn’t long till the wolf bites into Wooyoung’s hind leg and brings him down with a triumphant yelp. 

Wooyoung grapples, furious and snarling, clawing and biting at the wolf. He’s never fought with someone like this before, so violent and desperate. Till death. The thought makes him whine out loud. If he dies here, the wolf will target the village, will go and hunt down an injured San who can’t shift or run away. It fills him with renewed vigour and he fights blindly, slashing, wild and instinctive, grabbing onto chunks of the wolf’s flesh with his teeth and tearing into it. 

It’s savage and Wooyoung knows he’s injured, can feel the weakness eating away at his body but he can also smell the wolf’s pain, it’s old wounds reopening. In a desperate attempt, Wooyoung lurches forward and pierces his teeth into the wolf’s neck, holding on even while the wolf claws deep gashes into his abdomen. When the pain becomes unbearable he lets go, staggering backwards, eyes swollen and blurred. 

The wolf doesn’t pounce, mimicking Wooyoung’s stance. Waiting for him to move, staring at him. But Wooyoung can do nothing, nothing but fight to keep his eyes open, long enough to see the wolf sway and finally, fall to the ground with a thud. 

Then and only then, he allows the pain to take over, rushing into him and enshrouding him in darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AJKNFKJAD SFKAD S I PROMISE NEW CHAPTER IN LIKE A DAY IM ALREADY WRITING IT LMAO
> 
> please do leave kudos and comments if you can, i love hearing about what you think!!
> 
> thank you and have a lovely day/night y'all!

**Author's Note:**

> just a few things: a lot of the lore and mythology is inspired by hinduism and indian folk tales/myths. i basically just remembered everything my dad used to tell me as a kid lmao and tried to build a world around it. the deity Bhūmi is a sankrit word for Earth, and she's an incarnation of the hindu goddess Lakshmi. The 'Dev' that i mention is Vishnu, Lakshmi is his consort. There are a lot of stories of the two of them being reincarnated as human beings and still falling in love with each other and i find that really sweet lol (re: Krishna and Radha, Rama and Sita from the Ramayana).
> 
> If you have any other questions, please comment below!
> 
> you can find me on twitter at fightmehyuk


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